section 1.

Admitting, for the sake of the argument— what is not true in fact —that the words, “person held to service or labor,” are a legal description of a slave, and that the clause of the Constitution in reference to such persons, and the Act of Congress of 1793, and the supplementary Act of 1850, for carrying that clause into effect, authorize the delivery of fugitive slaves to their masters—said acts (considered as one,) are nevertheless unconstitutional, in at least seven particulars, as follows:—

1. They authorize the delivery of the slaves without a trial by jury.

2. The Commissioners appointed by the Act of 1850, are not constitutional tribunals for the adjudication of such cases.

3. The State magistrates, authorized by the Act of 1793, to deliver up fugitives from service or labor, are not constitutional tribunals for that purpose.

4. The Act of 1850 is unconstitutional, in that it authorizes cases to be decided wholly on ex parte testimony.

5. The provisions of the Act of 1850, requiring the exclusion of certain evidence, are unconstitutional.

6. The requirement of the Act of 1850, that the cases be adjudicated “in a summary manner,” is unconstitutional.

7. The prohibition, in the Act of 1850, of the issue of the writ of Habeas Corpus for the relief of those arrested under the act, is unconstitutional.

These several points I propose to establish.

section 2.: Denial of a Trial by Jury. [*]

Neither the Act of 1793, nor that of 1850, allows the alleged slave a trial by jury. So far as I am aware, the only argument, worthy of notice, that has ever been offered against the right of an alleged fugitive slave to a trial by jury, is that given by Mr. Webster, in his letter to certain citizens of Newburyport, dated May 15, 1850, as follows:—

“Nothing is more false than that such jury trial is demanded, in cases of this kind, by the constitution, either in its letter or in its spirit. The constitution declares that in all criminal prosecutions, there shall be a trial by jury; the reclaiming of a fugitive slave is not a criminal prosecution.

“The constitution also declares that in suits at common law, the trial by jury shall be preserved; the reclaiming of a fugitive slave is not a suit at the common law; and there is no other clause or sentence in the constitution having the least bearing on the subject.”

In saying that “the reclaiming of a fugitive slave is not a criminal prosecution,” Mr. Webster is, of course, correct. But in saying that “the reclaiming of a fugitive slave is not a suit at the common law,” within the meaning of the constitutional amendment, that secures a jury trial “in suits at common law,” he raises a question, which it will require something more than his simple assertion to settle.

To determine whether the reclaiming of a fugitive slave is a “suit at common law,” within the meaning of the above amendment to the constitution, it is only necessary to define the terms “suit” and “common law,” as used in the amendment, and the term “claim,” as used in that clause of the constitution, which provides that fugitives from service and labor “shall be delivered up on claim of the person to whom such service or labor may be due.”

All these terms have been defined by the Supreme Court of the United States. Their definitions are as follows:

In the case of Prigg vs. Pennsylvania, the court say—

“He (the slave) shall be delivered up on claim of the party to whom such service or labor may be due. * * * A claim is to be made. What is a claim? It is, in a just juridical sense, a demand of some matter, as of right, made by one person upon another, to do, or to forbear to do, some act or thing as a matter of duty. A more limited, but at the same time an equally expressive definition was given by Lord Dyer, as cited in Stowell vs. Zouch, Plowden 359; and it is equally applicable to the present case; that ‘a claim is a challenge by a man of the propriety or ownership of a thing which he has not in his possession, but which is wrongfully detained from him.’ The slave is to be delivered up on the claim.”—16 Peters 614-15.

In Cohens vs. Virginia, the court say:

“What is a suit? We understand it to be the prosecution, or pursuit, of some claim, demand, or request. In law language, it is the prosecution of some demand in a court of justice. ‘The remedy for every species of wrong is,’ says Judge Blackstone, ‘the being put in possession of that right whereof the party injured is deprived.’ The instruments whereby this remedy is obtained, are a diversity of suits and actions, which are defined by the Mirror to be ‘the lawful demand of one’s right;’ or, as Bracton and Fleta express it, in the words of Justinian, ‘ jus prosequendi in judicio quod alicui debetur, ’—(the form of prosecuting in trial, or judgment, what is due to any one.) Blackstone then proceeds to describe every species of remedy by suit; and they are all cases where the party sueing claims to obtain something to which he has a right.

“To commence a suit, is to demand something by the institution of process in a court of justice; and to prosecute the suit, is, according to the common acceptation of language, to continue that demand.”—6 Wheaton 407-8.

In the case of Parsons vs. Bedford et. al., the court define the term “common law,” with special reference to its meaning in the amendment to the constitution, which secures the right of trial by jury “in suits at common law.” The court say:

“The phrase ‘common law,’ found in this clause, is used in contradistinction to equity, and admiralty, and maritime jurisprudence. The constitution had declared in the third article, ‘that the judicial power shall extend to all cases in law and equity arising under this constitution, the laws of the United States, and treaties made or which shall be made under their authority, &c., and to all cases of admiralty and maritime jurisprudence. It is well known that in civil causes, in courts of equity and admiralty, juries do not intervene, and that courts of equity use the trial by jury only in extraordinary cases to inform the conscience of the court. When, therefore, we find that the amendment requires that the right of trial by jury shall be preserved in suits at common law, the natural conclusion is, that this distinction was present to the minds of the framers of the amendment. By common law, they meant what the constitution denominated in the third article, ‘law;’ not merely suits which the common law recognized among its old and settled proceedings, but suits in which legal rights were to be ascertained and determined, in contradistinction to those where equitable rights alone were recognized, and equitable remedies were administered; or where, as in the admiralty, a mixture of public law, and of maritime law and equity was often found in the same suit.” * * * *

“In a just sense, the amendment, then, may be construed to embrace all suits which are not of equity and admiralty jurisprudence, whatever may be the peculiar form which they may assume to settle legal rights.”—3 Peters, 446.

Such are the definitions given by the Supreme Court of the United States, of the terms “claim,” “suit,” and “common law,” as used in the constitution and amendment. If these definitions are correct, they cover the case of fugitive slaves. If they are not correct, it becomes Mr. Webster to give some reason against them besides his naked assertion, that “the reclaiming of a fugitive slave is not a suit at the common law.”

Mr. Webster is habitually well satisfied with the opinions of the Supreme Court, when they make for slavery. Will he favor the world with his objections to them, when they make for liberty?

Perhaps Mr. Webster will say that, in the case of a fugitive slave, the matter “in controversy,” is not “value”—to be measured by “dollars,” but freedom. But it certainly does not lie in the mouth of the slaveholder, (however it might in the mouth of the slave,) to make this objection—because the slaveholder claims the slave as property—as “value” belonging to himself.

section 3.: The Commissioners, authorized by the Act of 1850, are not Constitutional Tribunals for the performance of the duties assigned them.

The office of the Commissioners, in delivering up fugitive slaves, is a judicial office. They are to try “suits at common law,” within the meaning of the constitution, as has just been shown. They are to give, not only judgment, but final judgment, in questions both of property, and personal liberty—(of property, on the part of the complainant, and of liberty, on the part of the alleged slave.) Indeed, the Supreme Court have decided that the office of delivering up fugitive slaves is a judicial one. Say they,

“It is plain, then, that where a claim is made by the owner, out of possession, for the delivery of a slave, it must be made, if at all, against some other person; and inasmuch as the right is a right of property, capable of being recognized and asserted by proceedings before a court of justice, between parties adverse to each other, it constitutes, in the strictest sense, a controversy between the parties, and a case arising under the constitution of the United States; within the express delegation of judicial power given by that instrument.”— Prigg vs. Pennsylvania, 16 Peters, 616.

These Commissioners, therefore, are “judges,” within the meaning of that term, as used in the constitution. And being judges, they necessarily come within that clause of the constitution, (Art. 3, Sec. 1,) which provides that “The judges, both of the supreme and inferior courts, shall hold their offices during good behavior, and shall, at stated times, receive for their services, a compensation, which shall not be diminished during their continuance in office.”

The object of this provision of the constitution, in requiring that all “judges” shall receive a fixed salary, or “a compensation, at stated times,” instead of receiving their pay in the shape of fees in each case—thus making its aggregate amount contingent upon the number of cases they may try—was to secure their impartiality and integrity, as between the parties whose causes should come before them. If a judge were to receive his compensation in the shape of fees for each case, he would have a pecuniary inducement to give a case to the plaintiff, without regard to its merits. And for these reasons. Plaintiffs have the privilege of selecting their own tribunals. If a particular judge be known as uniformly or usually giving cases to plaintiffs, he thereby induces plaintiffs to bring their cases before him, in preference to other tribunals. He thus tries a larger number of cases, and of course obtains a larger amount of fees, than he would if he were to decide impartially. He thus induces also the institution of a larger number of suits than would otherwise be instituted, because if plaintiffs are sure, or have a reasonable probability, of gaining their causes, without regard to their merits, they will of course bring many groundless and unjust suits, which otherwise they would not bring.

It is obvious, therefore, that the payment of judges by the way of fees for each case, has a direct tendency to induce corrupt decisions, and destroy impartiality in the administration of justice. And the constitution—by requiring imperatively that judges “shall receive” a fixed salary, or “a compensation at stated times,” has in reality provided that the rights of no man, whether of property or liberty, shall ever be adjudicated by a judge, who is liable to be influenced by the pecuniary temptation to injustice, which is here guarded against.

The legal objection I now make is not that the Commissioners or judges are paid double fees for deciding against liberty, or for deciding in favor of the plaintiffs—(a provision more infamous probably, for the pay of the judiciary, than was ever before placed upon a human statute book)—but it is that they are paid in fees at all; that they receive no “compensation at stated times,” as required by the constitution; that their pay is contingent upon the number of cases they can procure to be brought before them; in other words, contingent upon the inducements, which, by their known practice, they may offer to the claimants of slaves to bring their cases before them.

The argument on this point, then, is, that inasmuch as the constitution imperatively requires that “judges shall receive, at stated times, a compensation for their services,” and inasmuch as the Act of 1850 makes no provision for paying these Commissioners any “compensation at stated times,” they are not constitutional tribunals, and consequently, have no authority to act as judges or commissioners in execution of the law; and their acts and decisions are of necessity binding upon nobody. In short, a Commissioner, instead of being one of the judges of the United States, paid by the United States, is, in law, a mere hired kidnapper, employed and paid by the slave-hunter—and every body has a right to treat him and his decisions accordingly.[*]

section 4.: The State Magistrates, authorized by the Act of 1793, to deliver up fugitives from service or labor, are not constitutional tribunals for that purpose.

The Act of 1793 requires the State magistrates—“any magistrate of a county, city, or town corporate”—to deliver up fugitives from service or labor. This provision is plainly unconstitutional, for several reasons, to wit:

1. The State Courts are not “established” by Congress, as the constitution expressly requires that all courts shall be, in whom “the judicial power of the United States shall be vested.”

2. The “judges” of the State courts do not “at stated times, receive for their services a compensation,” (from the United States,) as the constitution requires that the judges of the United States shall do.

3. The judges of the State courts do not receive their offices or appointments in any of the modes prescribed by the constitution. The president does not “nominate,” nor does he “by and with the consent of the Senate, appoint” them to their offices; nor is their “appointment vested in the president alone, in the courts of law, or in the heads of departments.”

4. The State magistrates are not commissioned by the President of the United States, as the constitution requires that “all officers of the United States” shall be.

5. The State judges are not amenable to the United States for their conduct in their offices; they cannot be impeached, or removed from their offices, by the Congress or the government of the United States.

For these reasons the Act of 1793, requiring the State magistrates to deliver up fugitives, is palpably unconstitutional. Indeed the Supreme Court of the United States have decided as much; for they have decided that,

“Congress cannot vest any portion of the judicial power of the United States, except in courts ordained and established by itself.”— Martin vs. Hunters, Lessee, 1 Wheaton 330.

Also, “The jurisdiction over such cases, (cases arising under the constitution, laws, and treaties of the United States,) could not exist in the State courts previous to the adoption of the constitution, and it could not afterwards be directly conferred on them; for the constitution expressly requires the judicial power to be vested in courts ordained and established by the United States.”— Same, p. 335.

But although this act is thus palpably unconstitutional, the Supreme Court, in the Prigg case, with a corruption, that ought to startle the nation, and shake their faith in all its decisions in regard to slavery, declared that “no doubt is entertained by this court that State magistrates may, if they choose, exercise that authority, unless prohibited by State legislation.”—16 Peters, 622.

Thus this court, who knew—as the same court had previously determined—that Congress could confer upon the State magistrates no “judicial power” whatever, nevertheless attempted to encourage them to assume the office of judges of the United States, and use it for the purpose of returning men into bondage—under the pretence that an act of Congress, admitted to be unconstitutional, would yet be a sufficient justification for the deed.

That court knew perfectly well that a law authorizing a claimant to arrest a man, on the allegation that he was a slave, and then take him before the first man or woman he might happen to meet in the street, and authorizing such man or woman to adjudicate the question, would be equally constitutional with this act of 1793, and would confer just as much judicial authority upon such man or woman, as this act of 1793 conferred upon the State magistrates; and that it would be just as lawful for such man or woman to adjudicate the case of an alleged slave, and return him into bondage, under such a law, as it is for a State magistrate to do it under the law of 1793.

It is worthy of remark, that the same judge—and he a northern one, (Story,)—who delivered the opinion, declaring that “Congress cannot vest any portion of the judicial power of the United States, except in courts ordained and established by itself,” delivered the other opinion declaring that “no doubt is entertained by this court that State magistrates may, if they choose, exercise that authority, unless prohibited by State legislation.”

It is also worthy of notice, that every one of the definitions before given, (Sec. 2,) of “claim,” “suit,” and “common law,”—from which it appears that a “claim” for a fugitive slave is a “suit at common law,” within the meaning of the constitution, and must therefore be tried by a jury—were taken from opinions delivered in the Supreme Court by Story. He also, in the Prigg case, said that a claim for a fugitive slave “constitutes, in the strictest sense, a controversy between the parties, and a case ‘arising under the constitution of the United States,’ within the express delegation of judicial power given by that instrument.” And yet this same Story, in his Commentaries on the Constitution, says that this “suit at common law,” this “controversy between the parties,” this “case arising under the constitution, within the express delegation of judicial power given by that instrument,” has no more claim to a judicial investigation on its merits, than is had when a fugitive from justice is delivered up for trial. He says,

“It is obvious that these provisions for the arrest and removal of fugitives of both classes contemplate summary ministerial (not judicial, but ministerial —that is executive) proceedings, and not the ordinary course of judicial investigations, to ascertain whether the complaint be well founded, or the claim of ownership be established beyond all legal controversy. In cases of suspected crimes the guilt or innocence of the party is to be made out at his trial; and not upon the preliminary inquiry, whether he shall be delivered up. All that would seem in such cases to be necessary is, that there should be prima facie evidence before the executive authority to satisfy its judgment, that there is probable cause to believe the party guilty, such as upon an ordinary warrant would justify his commitment for trial. And in cases of fugitive slaves there would seem to be the same necessity for requiring only prima facie proofs of ownership, without putting the party, (the claimant,) to a formal assertion of his rights by a suit at law.”

3 Story’s Commentaries, 677-8.

The Act of 1850 is unconstitutional for the same reason as is the Act of 1793; for the Act of 1850 (Sec. 10,) authorizes any State Court of record, or judge thereof in vacation, to take testimony as to the two facts of a man’s being a slave, and of his escape; and it provides that any testimony which shall be “satisfactory” to such State “court, or judge thereof in vacation,” on those two points, “shall be held and taken to be full and conclusive evidence” of those facts, by the United States “court, judge, or commissioner,” who may have the final disposal of the case.

It thus authorizes the State court, or judge thereof in vacation, absolutely, and without appeal, to try those two points in every case —leaving only the single point of identity to be tried by the United States “court, judge, or commissioner.”

Now it is as clearly unconstitutional for Congress to give, to a State court or judge, final jurisdiction, (or even partial jurisdiction,) of two-thirds of a case, (that is, of two, out of the only three, points involved in the case,) as it would be to give them jurisdiction of the whole case.

I suppose the ground, if any, on which Congress would pretend to justify this legislation, is the following provision of the constitution—(Art. 4, Sec. 1.)

“Full faith and credit shall be given in each State to the public acts, records, and judicial proceedings of every other State. And the Congress may by general laws prescribe the manner in which such acts, records and proceedings shall be proved, and the effect thereof.”

But “the public acts, records, and judicial proceedings” of a State, which are here spoken of, are only “the public acts, records, and judicial proceedings,” done, made, and had, by State officers, under the laws of the State. A State judge is not an officer of the State, when exercising an authority conferred upon him by the United States; nor are his “acts, records, or judicial proceedings,” the “acts, records, or judicial proceedings” of the State —but only of the United States.[*] It is only when acting as an officer of the State, under the laws of the State, that his “acts, records, and judicial proceedings” are the “acts, records, and judicial proceedings” of the State.

Congress seem to have been inspired with the idea that, although they could not directly confer upon a State judge that “judicial power,” which the constitution requires to be vested only in judges of the United States, yet, if, by any unconstitutional law, they could but induce a State judge to exercise “the judicial power of the United States,” so far as to hear and determine upon the evidence, (in a case arising under the constitution and laws of the United States,) and make a record of his proceedings and determination, they (Congress) could then, by virtue of this article of the constitution, “prescribe the manner in which such records and judicial proceedings shall be proved, and the effect thereof,” (before a court of the United States,) as if they were really the “records and judicial proceedings” of the State itself.

If this wonderfully adroit process were to succeed, Congress would be able to transfer all the real “judicial power of the United States,” to the State “courts, or judges thereof in vacation”—leaving the United States courts nothing to do but to receive the “records” made by these State courts and judges, and give them such “effect” as Congress might prescribe.

But this remarkable contrivance must fail of its purpose, unless it can be shown that the “acts, records and judicial proceedings,” which may be had and made by a State “court of record, or judge thereof in vacation,”—not by virtue of any authority granted them by the State, but only by virtue of an unconstitutional law of Congress—are really the “acts, records, and judicial proceedings” of the State itself.

The motive of this attempt, on the part of Congress, to transfer to the State courts and judges full and final jurisdiction over the two facts, that a man was a slave, and that he escaped, is doubtless to be found in the statement made by Senator Mason, of Virginia, the Chairman of the Committee that reported the bill, and the principal champion of the bill in the Senate. In a speech upon the bill, on the 19th day of August, 1850, (as reported in the Washington Union and Intelligencer,) in describing “the actual evils under which the slave States labor in reference to the reclamation of these fugitives,” he said—

“Then again, it is proposed, (by one of the opponents of the bill,) as a part of the proof to be adduced at the hearing after the fugitive has been recaptured, that evidence shall be brought by the claimant to show that slavery is established in the State from which the fugitive has absconded. Now, this very thing, in a recent case in the city of New York, was required by one of the judges of that State, which case attracted the attention of the authorities of Maryland, and against which they protested, because of the indignities heaped upon their citizens, and the losses which they sustained in that city. In that case, the judge of the State court required proof that slavery was established in Maryland, and went so far as to say that the only mode of proving it was by reference to the statute book. Such proof is required in the Senator’s amendment; and if he means by this that proof shall be brought that slavery is established by existing laws, it is impossible to comply with the requisition, for no such proof can be produced, I apprehend, in any of the slave States. I am not aware that there is a single State in which the institution is established by positive law. On a former occasion, and on a different topic, it was my duty to endeavor to show to the Senate that no such law was necessary for its establishment; certainly none could be found, and none was required in any of the States of the Union.”

It thus appears by the confession of the champion of the bill himself, that every one of these fugitive slave cases would break down on the first point to be proved, to wit, that the alleged fugitive was a slave—if that fact were left to be proved before a court that should require the claimant to show any law which made the man a slave. It was therefore indispensable that this fact should be proved only to the satisfaction of one of those State judges, who have acquired the habit of deciding men to be slaves, without any law being shown for it.

section 5.: Ex parte Evidence.

The Act of 1850 is unconstitutional, in that it authorizes cases to be decided wholly on ex parte testimony.

The 4th Section of the act makes it the “duty” of the “court, judge, or commissioner,” to deliver up an alleged fugitive, “upon satisfactory proof being made by deposition or affidavit, in writing, * * or by other satisfactory testimony, * * and with proof also by affidavit of the identity of the person,” &c.

It thus allows the whole proof to be made by “affidavit” alone, which is wholly an ex parte affair. And if this testimony be “satisfactory” to the court, judge, or commissioner, they are authorized to decide the case upon that testimony alone, without giving the defendant any opportunity to confront or cross-examine the witnesses of the claimant, or to offer a particle of evidence in his defence.

The 10th Section of the act is of the same character as the 4th, except that it is worse. It first provides that a claimant—by a wholly ex parte proceeding—may make “satisfactory proof”—to “any court of record, or judge thereof in vacation,” in the “State, Territory, or District,” from which a fugitive is alleged to have escaped—that a person has escaped, and that he owed service or labor to the party claiming him. It then, not merely permits, but imperatively requires, that this ex parte evidence, when a transcript thereof is exhibited in the State where the alleged fugitive is arrested, “shall be held and taken to be full and conclusive evidence of the fact of escape, and that the service or labor of the person escaping is due to the party in the record mentioned.”

It thus absolutely requires, that on the production of certain ex parte evidence by the claimant, the court, judge, or commissioner shall decide these two points—the fact of escape, and that the fugitive owed service or labor to the claimant— against the defendant, without giving him a hearing.

It then permits the judge to decide the only remaining point, to wit, the identity of the person arrested with the person escaped—upon the same testimony. But it allows him to receive “other and further evidence, if necessary,” on this single point of identity.

Thus this section imperatively prescribes that, at the pleasure of the claimant, certain ex parte testimony “shall be held and taken to be full and conclusive evidence,” on two, out of the three, points involved in the case. And on the only remaining point, it requires “other and further evidence,” only on the condition that it shall be “necessary” in the mind of the judge or commissioner. And if “other and further evidence” be “necessary,” that also may be “either oral, or by affidavit,” which last is necessarily ex parte.

Thus the act authorizes the whole case to be decided wholly on ex parte evidence, if such evidence be “satisfactory” to the commissioner; and, at the option of the claimant, it makes it obligatory upon the commissioner to receive such testimony as “full and conclusive evidence,” on two, out of the only three, points involved in the case.

There is not a syllable in the whole act that suggests, implies, or requires that the individual, whose liberty is in issue, shall be allowed the right to confront or cross-examine a single opposing witness, or even the right to offer a syllable of rebutting testimony in his defence.

Now, I wish it to be understood that I am not about to argue the enormity of such an act, but only its unconstitutionality.

The question involved is, whether Congress have any constitutional power to authorize courts to decide cases, “suits at common law,” or any other cases, on ex parte testimony alone?

The constitution declares that “the judicial power shall extend to all cases in law and equity, arising under this constitution, the laws of the United States, * * to controversies to which the United States shall be a party; to controversies between two or more States, between a State and citizens of another State, between citizens of different States,” &c., &c.

What then is a “case?” “Case” is a technical term in the law. It is a “suit,” a “controversy” before a judicial tribunal, or umpire. The constitution uses the three terms, “case,” “suit,” and “controversy,” as synonymous with each other. They all imply at least two parties, who are antagonists to each other. There can be no “controversy,” where there is but one party. Nor can there be a “controversy” where but one of the parties is allowed to be heard.

Say the Supreme court, “A case in law or equity consists of the right of one party, as well as of the other.”

Cohens vs. Virginia, 6 Wheaton 379.

What is this “right” which is at the same time “the right of one party, as well as of the other?” It cannot be a right to the thing in controversy; because that can be the right of but one of them. The “right,” therefore, that belongs to “one party as well as the other,” can be nothing less than the equal right of each party to produce all the evidence naturally applicable to sustain his own claim, and defeat that of his adversary; to have that evidence weighed impartially by the tribunal that is to decide upon the facts proved by it; and then to have the law applicable to those facts applied to the determination of the controversy.

It has already been shown that the claim to a fugitive slave, is a “case,” “suit,” and “controversy,” arising under the constitution of the United States; and as such, to use the language of the court, is “within the express delegation of judicial power given by that instrument.”

The question now arises, what is “the judicial power of the United States?”

I answer, it is the power to take judicial cognizance or jurisdiction of, to try, adjudicate, and determine, all “cases,” “suits,” and “controversies, arising under the constitution and laws of the United States,” &c.

The judicial power, therefore, being a power to try cases, necessarily includes a power to determine what evidence is applicable to a case, and to admit, hear, and weigh all the evidence that is applicable to it. A case can be tried only on the evidence presented. In fact, the evidence constitutes the case to be tried. If a part only of the evidence, that is applicable to a case—or that constitutes the case—or that is necessary for the discovery of the truth of the case—be presented, weighed, and tried, the case really in controversy between the parties is not tried, but only a fictitious one, which Congress or the courts have arbitrarily substituted for the true one. If, whenever a case, arising under the constitution or laws of the United States, is instituted by one indivdual against another, Congress have constitutional power to substitute a fictitious case for the real one, and to require that the real one abide the result of the fictitious one, they have power to authorize cases to be tried on ex parte testimony—otherwise not. In what clause of the constitution such a power is granted to Congress, no one, so far as I am aware, has ever deigned to tell us.

No one will deny that the question, what evidence is admissible in a case, or makes part of a case, or is applicable to a case, is, in its nature, a judicial question. And if it be, in its nature, a judicial question, the power to determine it is a part of “the judicial power of the United States,” and consequently is vested solely in the courts. And Congress have clearly as much right to usurp any other “judicial power” whatever, as to usurp the power of deciding what evidence is, and what is not, admissible—or what evidence shall, and what evidence shall not, be admitted.

As a general rule, the decision of these questions, of the admissibility of evidence, is left to the courts. But legislatures are sometimes so ignorant or corrupt as to usurp this part of “the judicial power;” and the courts are always, I believe, ignorant, servile, or corrupt enough to yield to the usurpation.

The simple fact that all questions of the admissibility of evidence are, in their nature, judicial questions, proves that the power of deciding them, is a part of “the judicial power of the United States;” and as all “the judicial power of the United States” is vested in the courts, it necessarily follows that Congress cannot legislate at all in regard to it, either by prescribing what evidence shall, or what shall not, be admitted, in any case whatever. For them to do so is a plain usurpation of “judicial power.”

Among all the enumerated powers, granted to Congress, there is no one that includes, or bears any, the remotest, resemblance to a power to prescribe what evidence shall, and what shall not, be admitted by the courts, in the trial of a case. There is none that bears any resemblance to a power to authorize or require the courts to decide cases on ex parte testimony alone. If a judge were thus to decide a case, of his own will, he would be impeached. The assumption, on the part of Congress, of a power to authorize the courts to do such an act, is a thoroughly barefaced usurpation. If Congress can authorize courts to decide cases, on hearing the testimony on one side only, they have clearly the same right to authorize them to decide them without hearing any evidence at all.

section 6.: The provisions of the act of 1850 requiring the exclusion of certain evidence, are unconstitutional.

Those provisions of the act, which specially require the exclusion of certain testimony, naturally applicable to the case, are unconstitutional for the same reason as are those which purport merely to authorize or allow the decision of the case on ex parte testimony. That reason, as has been already stated in the preceding section, is that such legislation is an usurpation, by Congress, of “the judicial power”—or rather an attempt to control the judicial power—for which no authority is given in the constitution. “The judicial power” being vested in the courts, Congress can of course neither exercise nor control it.

If congress can, by statute, require the exclusion of any testimony whatever, that is naturally applicable to a case, they can require the exclusion of all testimony whatever, and require cases to be decided by the courts, without hearing any evidence at all.

There are two provisions in the act of 1850, which specially require the exclusion of testimony, on the part of the defendant. The first is the one, (sec. 10), already commented upon, which requires that certain ex parte testimony taken by the claimant, “shall be held and taken to be full and conclusive evidence,” on the two points to which it relates, to wit, the fact of slavery, and the fact of escape. This requirement that this ex parte testimony shall “be held and taken to be full and conclusive evidence” of those two facts, is an express exclusion of all rebutting testimony relative to those facts.

The other provision of this kind, is in the 4th section, in these words.

“In no trial or hearing, under this act, shall the testimony of such alleged fugitive be admitted.”

The act itself admits that the testimony of one of the parties, the claimant, is legitimate evidence—for it permits it to be received, and, if it be “satisfactory” to the court, judge, or commissioner, allows the case to be determined on his testimony alone. Indeed, without the claimant’s own testimony, his case could rarely, if ever, be made out—because he alone could generally know whether he owned the slave, and he alone (except the slave) could know whether the slave escaped, or whether he had permission to go into another state. It is therefore indispensable to the success of these cases generally, that the claimant’s own testimony should be received; and if his testimony be admissible, the testimony of the opposing party must be equally admissible; and for Congress to prohibit its admission is, for the reasons already given, an usurpation of “the judicial power.”[*]

section 7.: The requirement of the act of 1850, that the cases be adjudicated “in a summary manner,” is unconstitutional.

Section 6th of the act makes it the “duty” of the court, judge, or commissioner, “to hear and determine the case of such claimant in a summary manner.”

This determining the case in a summary manner is only another mode of excluding testimony on the part of the defendant. The plaintiff of course prepares his testimony beforehand, and has it ready at the moment the alleged fugitive is arrested. If the case then be tried, without giving the defendant time to procure any testimony, the decision must necessarily be made upon the testimony of the claimant alone. Such is the design of the act, for the defendant being arrested, the act requires that he shall be “taken forthwith before such court, judge, or commissioner, whose duty it shall be to hear and determine the case of such claimant in a summary manner,”—that is, without granting the delay necessary to enable the defendant to obtain testimony for his defence.

The whole object and effect of this provision is to make it necessary for the court to determine the case on the evidence furnished by the plaintiff alone. And the exclusion of all testimony for the defendant, by this “summary” process, is equally unconstitutional with its exclusion in the manner commented on in the last two preceding sections—for the right of a party to be heard in a court of justice, necessarily implies a right to reasonable time in which to procure his testimony.

section 8.: The suspension of the writ of Habeas Corpus, by the act of 1850, is unconstitutional.

Section 6th of the act provides that “the certificates in this and the first section mentioned, shall be conclusive of the right of the person or persons in whose favor granted, to remove such fugitive to the state or territory from which he escaped, and shall prevent all molestation of such person or persons, by any process issued by any court, judge, magistrate, or other person, whomsoever.”

This is a prohibition upon the issue of the writ of habeas corpus, and is a violation of that clause of the constitution, which says that “The privilege of the writ of habeas corpus shall not be suspended, unless when, in cases of rebellion or invasion, the public safety may require it.”

In cases where no appeal lies to a superior court, (and in this case no appeal is granted, and the constitution, art. 3, sec. 2, clause 2, does not require an appeal,) the habeas corpus is the only mode of relief for a person deprived of his liberty by any illegal proceeding; and a prohibition upon the use of the habeas corpus for the purpose of inquiring into the proceedings, and determining whether they have been legal, and releasing the prisoner if they have been illegal, is as palpable a violation of the constitution on this point as it is possible to conceive of.

Upon a writ of habeas corpus, it would be the duty of the court to inquire fully into the several questions, whether the person, who had assumed to act as judge, and restrain the prisoner of his liberty, was really a judge, appointed and qualified as the constitution requires? Whether the law, under color of which the man was restrained, was a constitutional one? Whether the prisoner had been allowed a trial by jury? Whether he had been allowed to offer all the testimony, which he had a constitutional right to offer, in his defence. Whether he had had reasonable time granted him, in which to procure testimony? And generally into all questions involving the legality of his restraint; and to set him at liberty, if the restraint should be found to be illegal.

SECONDLY.

Although we might stop—we yet do not choose to stop—at the point last suggested. We will now go further, and attempt to show, specifically from its provisions, that the constitution of the United States, not only does not recognize or sanction slavery, as a legal institution, but that, on the contrary, it presumes all men to be free; that it positively denies the right of property in man; and that it, of itself, makes it impossible for slavery to have a legal existence in any of the United States.

In the first place—although the assertion is constantly made, and rarely denied, yet it is palpably a mere begging of the whole question in favor of slavery, to say that the constitution intended to sanction it; for if it intended to sanction it, it did thereby necessarily sanction it, (that is, if slavery then had any constitutional existence to be sanctioned.) The intentions of the constitution are the only means whereby it sanctions anything. And its intentions necessarily sanction everything to which they apply, and which, in the nature of things, they are competent to sanction. To say, therefore, that the constitution intended to sanction slavery, is the same as to say that it did sanction it; which is begging the whole question, and substituting mere assertion for proof.

Why, then, do not men say distinctly, that the constitution did sanction slavery, instead of saying that it intended to sanction it? We are not accustomed to use the word “intention,” when speaking of the other grants and sanctions of the constitution. We do not say, for example, that the constitution intended to authorize congress “to coin money,” but that it did authorize them to coin it. Nor do we say that it intended to authorize them “to declare war;” but that it did authorize them to declare it. It would be silly and childish to say merely that it intended to authorize them “to coin money,” and “to declare war,” when the language authorizing them to do so, is full, explicit and positive. Why, then, in the case of slavery, do men say merely that the constitution intended to sanction it, instead of saying distinctly, as we do in the other cases, that it did sanction it? The reason is obvious. If they were to say unequivocally that it did sanction it, they would lay themselves under the necessity of pointing to the words that sanction it; and they are aware that the words alone of the constitution do not come up to that point. They, therefore, assert simply that the constitution intended to sanction it; and they then attempt to support the assertion by quoting certain words and phrases, which they say are capable of covering, or rather of concealing such an intention; and then by the aid of exterior, circumstantial and historical evidence, they attempt to enforce upon the mind the conclusion that, as matter of fact, such was the intention of those who drafted the constitution; and thence they finally infer that such was the intention of the constitution itself.

The error and fraud of this whole procedure—and it is one purely of error and fraud—consists in this—that it artfully substitutes the supposed intentions of those who drafted the constitution, for the intentions of the constitution itself; and, secondly, it personifies the constitution as a crafty individual; capable of both open and secret intentions; capable of legally participating in, and giving effect to all the subtleties and double dealings of knavish men; and as actually intending to secure slavery, while openly professing to “secure and establish liberty and justice.” It personifies the constitution as an individual capable of having private and criminal intentions, which it dare not distinctly avow, but only darkly hint at, by the use of words of an indefinite, uncertain and double meaning, whose application is to be gathered from external circumstances.

The falsehood of all these imaginings is apparent, the moment it is considered that the constitution is not a person, of whom an “intention,” not legally expressed, can be asserted; that it has none of the various and selfish passions and motives of action, which sometimes prompt men to the practice of duplicity and disguise; that it is merely a written legal instrument; that, as such, it must have a fixed, and not a double meaning; that it is made up entirely of intelligible words; and that it has, and can have, no soul, no “intentions,” no motives, no being, no personality, except what those words alone express or imply. Its “intentions” are nothing more nor less than the legal meaning of its words. Its intentions are no guide to its legal meaning—as the advocates of slavery all assume; but its legal meaning is the sole guide to its intentions. This distinction is all important to be observed; for if we can gratuitously assume the intentions of a legal instrument to be what we may wish them to be, and can then strain or pervert the ordinary meaning of its words, in order to make them utter those intentions, we can make anything we choose of any legal instrument whatever. The legal meaning of the words of an instrument is, therefore, necessarily our only guide to its intentions.

In ascertaining the legal meaning of the words of the constitution, these rules of law, (the reasons of which will be more fully explained hereafter,) are vital to be borne constantly in mind, viz.: 1st, that no intention, in violation of natural justice and natural right, (like that to sanction slavery,) can be ascribed to the constitution, unless that intention be expressed in terms that are legally competent to express such an intention; and, 2d, that no terms, except those that are plenary, express, explicit, distinct, unequivocal, and to which no other meaning can be given, are legally competent to authorize or sanction anything contrary to natural right. The rule of law is materially different as to the terms necessary to legalize and sanction anything contrary to natural right, and those necessary to legalize things that are consistent with natural right. The latter may be sanctioned by natural implication and inference; the former only by inevitable implication, or by language that is full, definite, express, explicit, unequivocal, and whose unavoidable import is to sanction the specific wrong intended.

To assert, therefore, that the constitution intended to sanction slavery, is, in reality, equivalent to asserting that the necessary meaning, the unavoidable import of the words alone of the constitution, come fully up to the point of a clear, definite, distinct, express, explicit, unequivocal, necessary and peremptory sanction of the specific thing, human slavery, property in man. If the necessary import of its words alone do but fall an iota short of this point, the instrument gives, and, legally speaking, intended to give, no legal sanction to slavery. Now, who can, in good faith, say that the words alone of the constitution come up to this point? No one, who knows anything of law, and the meaning of words. Not even the name of the thing, alleged to be sanctioned, is given. The constitution itself contains no designation, description, or necessary admission of the existence of such a thing as slavery, servitude, or the right of property in man. We are obliged to go out of the instrument, and grope among the records of oppression lawlessness and crime—records unmentioned, and of course unsanctioned by the constitution—to find the thing, to which it is said that the words of the constitution apply. And when we have found this thing, which the constitution dare not name, we find that the constitution has sanctioned it (if at all) only by enigmatical words, by unnecessary implication and inference, by innuendo and double entendre, and under a name that entirely fails of describing the thing. Everybody must admit that the constitution itself contains no language, from which alone any court, that were either strangers to the prior existence of slavery, or that did not assume its prior existence to be legal, could legally decide that the constitution sanctioned it. And this is the true test for determining whether the constitution does, or does not, sanction slavery, viz. whether a court of law, strangers to the prior existence of slavery or not assuming its prior existence to be legal—looking only at the naked language of the instrument—could, consistently with legal rules, judicially determine that it sanctioned slavery. Every lawyer, who at all deserves that name, knows that the claim for slavery could stand no such test. The fact is palpable, that the constitution contains no such legal sanction; that it is only by unnecessary implication and inference, by innuendo and double-entendre, by the aid of exterior evidence, the assumption of the prior legality of slavery, and the gratuitous imputation of criminal intentions that are not avowed in legal terms, that any sanction of slavery, (as a legal institution,) can be extorted from it.

But legal rules of interpretation entirely forbid and disallow all such implications, inferences, innuendos and double-entendre, all aid of exterior evidence, all assumptions of the prior legality of slavery, and all gratuitous imputations of criminal unexpressed intentions; and consequently compel us to come back to the letter of the instrument, and find there a distinct, clear, necessary, peremptory sanction for slavery, or to surrender the point.

To the unprofessional reader these rules of interpretation will appear stringent, and perhaps unreasonable and unsound. For his benefit, therefore, the reasons on which they are founded, will be given. And he is requested to fix both the reasons and the rules fully in his mind, inasmuch as the whole legal meaning of the constitution, in regard to slavery, may perhaps be found to turn upon the construction which these rules fix upon its language.

But before giving the reasons of this rule, let us offer a few remarks in regard to legal rules of interpretation in general. Many persons appear to have the idea that these rules have no foundation in reason, justice or necessity; that they are little else than whimsical and absurd conceits, arbitrarily adopted by the courts. No idea can be more erroneous than this. The rules are absolutely indispensable to the administration of the justice arising out of any class of legal instruments whatever—whether the instruments be simple contracts between man and man, or statutes enacted by legislatures, or fundamental compacts or constitutions of government agreed upon by the people at large. In regard to all these instruments, the law fixes, and necessarily must fix their meaning; and for the obvious reason, that otherwise their meaning could not be fixed at all. The parties to the simplest contract may disagree, or pretend to disagree as to its meaning, and of course as to their respective rights under it. The different members of a legislative body, who vote for a particular statute, may have different intentions in voting for it, and may therefore differ, or pretend to differ, as to its meaning. The people of a nation may establish a compact of government. The motives of one portion may be to establish liberty, equality and justice; and they may think, or pretend to think, that the words used in the instrument convey that idea. The motives of another portion may be to establish the slavery or subordination of one part of the people, and the superiority or arbitrary power of the other part; and they may think, or pretend to think, that the language agreed upon by the whole authorizes such a government. In all these cases, unless there were some rules of law, applicable alike to all instruments, and competent to settle their meaning, their meaning could not be settled; and individuals would of necessity lose their rights under them. The law, therefore, fixes their meaning; and the rules by which it does so, are founded in the same justice, reason, necessity and truth, as are other legal principles, and are for that reason as inflexible as any other legal principles whatever. They are also simple, intelligible, natural, obvious. Everybody are presumed to know them, as they are presumed to know any other legal principles. No one is allowed to plead ignorance of them, any more than of any other principle of law. All persons and people are presumed to have framed their contracts, statutes and constitutions with reference to them. And if they have not done so—if they have said black when they meant white, and one thing when they meant another, they must abide the consequences. The law will presume that they meant what they said. No one, in a court of justice, can claim any rights founded on a construction different from that which these rules would give to the contract, statute, or constitution, under which he claims. The judiciary cannot depart from these rules, for two reasons. First, because the rules embody in themselves principles of justice, reason and truth; and are therefore as necessarily law as any other principles of justice, reason and truth; and, secondly, because if they could lawfully depart from them in one case, they might in another, at their own caprice. Courts could thus at pleasure become despotic; all certainty as to the legal meaning of instruments would be destroyed; and the administration of justice, according to the true meaning of contracts, statutes and constitutions, would be rendered impossible.

What, then, are some of these rules of interpretation?

One of them, (as has been before stated,) is, that where words are susceptible of two meanings, one consistent, and the other inconsistent, with justice and natural right, that meaning, and only that meaning, which is consistent with right, shall be attributed to them—unless other parts of the instrument overrule that interpretation.

Another rule, (if indeed it be not the same,) is, that no language except that which is peremptory, and no implication, except one that is inevitable, shall be held to authorize or sanction anything contrary to natural right.

Another rule is, that no extraneous or historical evidence shall be admitted to fix upon a statute an unjust or immoral meaning, when the words themselves of the act are susceptible of an innocent one.

One of the reasons of these stringent and inflexible rules, doubtless is, that judges have always known, that, in point of fact, natural justice was itself law, and that nothing inconsistent with it could be made law, even by the most explicit and peremptory language that legislatures could employ. But judges have always, in this country and in England, been dependent upon the executive and the legislature for their appointments and salaries, and been amenable to the legislature by impeachment. And as the executive and legislature have always enacted more or less statutes, and had more or less purposes to accomplish, that were inconsistent with natural right, judges have seen that it would be impossible for them to retain their offices, and at the same time maintain the integrity of the law against the will of those in whose power they were. It is natural also that the executive should appoint, and that the legislature should approve the appointment of no one for the office of judge, whose integrity they should suppose would stand in the way of their purposes. The consequence has been that all judges, (probably without exception,) though they have not dared deny, have yet in practice yielded the vital principle of law; and have succumbed to the arbitrary mandates of the other departments of the government, so far as to carry out their enactments, though inconsistent with natural right. But, as if sensible of the degradation and criminality of so doing, they have made a stand at the first point at which they could make it, without bringing themselves in direct collision with those on whom they were dependent. And that point is, that they will administer, as law, no statute, that is contrary to natural right, unless its language be so explicit and peremptory, that there is no way of evading its authority, but by flatly denying the authority of those who enacted it. They (the court) will themselves add nothing to the language of the statute, to help out its supposed meaning. They will imply nothing, infer nothing, and assume nothing, except what is inevitable; they will not go out of the letter of the statute in search of any historical evidence as to the meaning of the legislature, to enable them to effectuate any unjust intentions not fully expressed by the statute itself. Wherever a statute is supposed to have in view the accomplishment of any unjust end, they will apply the most stringent principles of construction to prevent that object being effected. They will not go a hair’s breadth beyond the literal or inevitable import of the words of the statute, even though they should be conscious, all the while, that the real intentions of the makers of it would be entirely defeated by their refusal. The rule (as has been already stated) is laid down by the Supreme Court of the United States in these words:

“Where rights are infringed, where fundamental principles are overthrown, where the general system of the laws is departed from, the legislative intention must be expressed with irresistible clearness, to induce a court of justice to suppose a design to effect such objects.”—( United States vs. Fisher et al., 2 Cranch, 390.)[*]

Such has become the settled doctrine of courts. And although it does not come up to the true standard of law, yet it is good in itself, so far as it goes, and ought to be unflinchingly adhered to, not merely for its own sake, but also as a scaffolding, from which to erect that higher standard of law, to wit, that no language or authority whatever can legalize anything inconsistent with natural justice.[†]

Another reason for the rules before given, against all constructions, implications and inferences—except inevitable ones—in favor of injustice, is, that but for them we should have no guaranty that our honest contracts, or honest laws would be honestly administered by the judiciary. It would be nearly or quite impossible for men, in framing their contracts or laws, to use language so as to exclude every possible implication in favor of wrong, if courts were allowed to resort to such implications. The law therefore excludes them; that is, the ends of justice—the security of men’s rights under their honest contracts, and under honest legislative enactments—make it imperative upon courts of justice to ascribe an innocent and honest meaning to all language that will possibly bear an innocent and honest meaning. If courts of justice could depart from this rule for the purpose of upholding what was contrary to natural right, and should employ their ingenuity in spying out some implied or inferred authority, for sanctioning what was in itself dishonest or unjust, when such was not the necessary meaning of the language used, there could be no security whatever for the honest administration of honest laws, or the honest fulfilment of men’s honest contracts. Nearly all language, on the meaning of which courts adjudicate, would be liable, at the caprice of the court, to be perverted from the furtherance of honest, to the support of dishonest purposes. Judges could construe statutes and contracts in favor of justice or injustice, as their own pleasure might dictate.

Another reason of the rules, is, that as governments have, and can have no legitimate objects or powers opposed to justice and natural right, it would be treason to all the legitimate purposes of government, for the judiciary to give any other than an honest and innocent meaning to any language, that would bear such a construction.

The same reasons that forbid the allowance of any unnecessary implication or inference in favor of a wrong, in the construction of a statute, forbids also the introduction of any extraneous or historical evidence to prove that the intentions of the legislature were to sanction or authorize a wrong.

The same rules of construction, that apply to statutes, apply also to all those private contracts between man and man, which courts actually enforce. But as it is both the right and the duty of courts to invalidate altogether such private contracts as are inconsistent with justice, they will admit evidence exterior to their words, if offered by a defendant for the purpose of invalidating them. At the same time, a plaintiff, or party that wishes to set up a contract, or that claims its fulfilment, will not be allowed to offer any evidence exterior to its words, to prove that the contract is contrary to justice—because, if his evidence were admitted, it would not make his unjust claim a legal one; but only invalidate it altogether. But as courts do not claim the right of invalidating statutes and constitutions, they will not admit evidence, exterior to their language, to give them such a meaning, that they ought to be invalidated.

I think no one—no lawyer, certainly—will now deny that it is a legal rule of interpretation—that must be applied to all statutes, and also to all private contracts that are to be enforced —that an innocent meaning, and nothing beyond an innocent meaning, must be given to all language that will possibly bear such a meaning. All will probably admit that the rule, as laid down by the Supreme Court of the United States, is correct, to wit, that “where rights are infringed, where fundamental principles are overthrown, where the general system of the law is departed from, the legislative intention must be expressed with irresistible clearness, to induce a court of justice to suppose a design to effect such objects.”

But perhaps it will be said that these rules, which apply to all statutes, and to all private contracts that are to be enforced, do not apply to the constitution. And why do they not? No reason whatever can be given. A constitution is nothing but a contract, entered into by the mass of the people, instead of a few individuals. This contract of the people at large becomes a law unto the judiciary that administer it, just as private contracts, (so far as they are consistent with natural right,) are laws unto the tribunals that adjudicate upon them. All the essential principles that enter into the question of obligation, in the case of a private contract, or a legislative enactment, enter equally into the question of the obligation of a contract agreed to by the whole mass of the people. This is too self-evident to need illustration.

Besides, is it not as important to the safety and rights of all interested, that a constitution or compact of government, established by a whole people, should be so construed as to promote the ends of justice, as it is that a private contract or a legislative enactment should be thus construed? Is it not as necessary that some check should be imposed upon the judiciary to prevent them from perverting, at pleasure, the whole purpose and character of the government, as it is that they should be restrained from perverting the meaning of a private contract, or a legislative enactment? Obviously written compacts of government could not be upheld for a day, if it were understood by the mass of the people that the judiciary were at liberty to interpret them according to their own pleasure, instead of their being restrained by such rules as have now been laid down.

Let us now look at some of the provisions of the constitution, and see what crimes might be held to be authorized by them, if their meaning were not to be ascertained and restricted by such rules of interpretation as apply to all other legal instruments.

The second amendment to the constitution declares that “the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.”

This right “to keep and bear arms,” implies the right to use them—as much as a provision securing to the people the right to buy and keep food, would imply their right also to eat it. But this implied right to use arms, is only a right to use them in a manner consistent with natural rights—as, for example, in defence of life, liberty, chastity, &c. Here is an innocent and just meaning, of which the words are susceptible; and such is therefore the extent of their legal meaning. If the courts could go beyond the innocent and necessary meaning of the words, and imply or infer from them an authority for anything contrary to natural right, they could imply a constitutional authority in the people to use arms, not merely for the just and innocent purposes of defence, but also for the criminal purposes of aggression—for purposes of murder, robbery, or any other acts of wrong to which arms are capable of being applied. The mere verbal implication would as much authorize the people to use arms for unjust, as for just, purposes. But the legal implication gives only an authority for their innocent use. And why? Simply because justice is the end of all law—the legitimate end of all compacts of government. It is itself law; and there is no right or power among men to destroy its obligation.

Take another case. The constitution declares that “Congress shall have power to regulate commerce with foreign nations, and among the several States, and with the Indian tribes.”

This power has been held by the Supreme Court to be an exclusive one in the general government—and one that cannot be controlled by the States. Yet it gives Congress no constitutional authority to legalize any commerce inconsistent with natural justice between man and man; although the mere verbal import of the words, if stretched to their utmost tension in favor of the wrong, would authorize Congress to legalize a commerce in poisons and deadly weapons, for the express purpose of having them used in a manner inconsistent with natural right—as for the purposes of murder.

At natural law, and on principles of natural right, a person. who should sell to another a weapon or a poison, knowing that it would, or intending that it should be used for the purpose of murder, would be legally an accessary to the murder that should be committed with it. And if the grant to Congress of a “power to regulate commerce,” can be stretched beyond the innocent meaning of the words—beyond the power of regulating and authorizing a commerce that is consistent with natural justice—and be made to cover everything, intrinsically criminal, that can be perpetrated under the name of commerce—then Congress have the authority of the constitution for granting to individuals the liberty of bringing weapons and poisons from “foreign nations” into this, and from one State into another, and selling them openly for the express purposes of murder, without any liability to legal restraint or punishment.

Can any stronger cases than these be required to prove the necessity, the soundness, and the inflexibility of that rule of law, which requires the judiciary to ascribe an innocent meaning to all language that will possibly bear an innocent meaning? and to ascribe only an innocent meaning to language whose mere verbal import might be susceptible of both an innocent and criminal meaning? If this rule of interpretation could be departed from, there is hardly a power granted to Congress, that might not lawfully be perverted into an authority for legalizing crimes of the highest grade.

In the light of these principles, then, let us examine those clauses of the constitution, that are relied on as recognizing and sanctioning slavery. They are but three in number.

The one most frequently quoted is the third clause of Art. 4. Sec. 2, in these words:

“No person, held to service or labor in one State, under the laws thereof, escaping into another, shall, in consequence of any law or regulation therein, be discharged from such service or labor; but shall be delivered up on claim of the party to whom such service or labor may be due.”

There are several reasons why this clause renders no sanction to slavery.

1. It must be construed, if possible, as sanctioning nothing contrary to natural right.

If there be any “service or labor” whatever, to which any “persons” whatever may be “held,” consistently with natural right, and which any person may, consistently with natural right, “claim” as his “due” of another, such “service or labor,” and only such, is recognized and sanctioned by this provision.

It needs no argument to determine whether the “service or labor,” that is exacted of a slave, is such as can be “claimed,” consistently with natural right, as being “due” from him to his master. And if it cannot be, some other “service or labor” must, if possible, be found for this clause to apply to.

The proper definition of the word “service,” in this case, obviously is, the labor of a servant. And we find, that at and before the adoption of the constitution, the persons recognized by the State laws as “servants,” constituted a numerous class. The statute books of the States abounded with statutes in regard to “servants.” Many seem to have been indented as servants by the public authorities, on account of their being supposed incompetent, by reason of youth and poverty, to provide for themselves. Many were doubtless indented as apprentices by their parents and guardians, as now. The English laws recognized a class of servants—and many persons were brought here from England, in that character, and retained that character afterward. Many indented or contracted themselves as servants for the payment of their passage money to this country. In these various ways, the class of persons, recognized by the statute books of the States as “servants,” was very numerous; and formed a prominent subject of legislation. Indeed, no other evidence of their number is necessary than the single fact, that “persons bound to service for a term of years,” were specially noticed by the constitution of the United States, (Art. 1, Sec. 2,) which requires that they be counted as units in making up the basis of representation. There is, therefore, not the slightest apology for pretending that there was not a sufficient class for the words “service or labor” to refer to, without supposing the existence of slaves.[*]

2. “Held to service or labor,” is no legal description of slavery. Slavery is property in man. It is not necessarily attended with either “service or labor.” A very considerable portion of the slaves are either too young, too old, too sick, or too refractory to render “service or labor.” As a matter of fact, slaves, who are able to labor, may, in general, be compelled by their masters to do so. Yet labor is not an essential or necessary condition of slavery. The essence of slavery consists in a person’s being owned as property—without any reference to the circumstances of his being compelled to labor, or of his being permitted to live in idleness, or of his being too young, or too old, or too sick to labor.

If “service or labor” were either a test, or a necessary attendant of slavery, that test would of itself abolish slavery; because all slaves, before they can render “service or labor,” must have passed through the period of infancy, when they could render neither service nor labor, and when, therefore, according to this test, they were free. And if they were free in infancy, they could not be subsequently enslaved.

3. “Held to service or labor in one State, under the laws thereof.”

The “laws” take no note of the fact whether a slave “labors,” or not. They recognize no obligation, on his part, to labor. They will enforce no “claim” of a master, upon his slave, for “service or labor.” If the slave refuse to labor, the law will not interfere to compel him. The law simply recognizes the master’s right of property in the slave—just as it recognizes his right of property in a horse. Having done that, it leaves the master to compel the slave, if he please, and if he can—as he would compel a horse—to labor. If the master do not please, or be not able, to compel the slave to labor, the law takes no more cognizance of the case than it does of the conduct of a refractory horse. In short, it recognizes no obligation, on the part of the slave, to labor, if he can avoid doing so. It recognizes no “claim,” on the part of the master, upon his slave, for “services or labor,” as “due” from the latter to the former.

4. Neither “service” nor “labor” is necessarily slavery; and not being necessarily slavery, the words cannot, in this case, be strained beyond their necessary meaning, to make them sanction a wrong. The law will not allow words to be strained a hair’s breadth beyond their necessary meaning, to make them authorize a wrong. The stretching, if there be any, must always be towards the right. The words “service or labor” do not necessarily, nor in their common acceptation, so much as suggest the idea of slavery—that is, they do not suggest the idea of the laborer or servant being the property of the person for whom he labors. An indented apprentice serves and labors for another. He is “held” to do so, under a contract, and for a consideration, that are recognized, by the laws, as legitimate, and consistent with natural right. Yet he is not owned as property. A condemned criminal is “held to labor”—yet he is not owned as property. The law allows no such straining of the meaning of words towards the wrong, as that which would convert the words “service or labor” (of men) into property in man —and thus make a man, who serves or labors for another, the property of that other.

5. “No person held to service or labor, in one State, under the laws thereof.”

The “laws,” here mentioned, and impliedly sanctioned, are, of course, only constitutional laws—laws, that are consistent, both with the constitution of the State, and the constitution of the United States. None others are “laws,” correctly speaking, however they may attempt to “hold persons to service or labor,” or however they may have the forms of laws on the statute books.

This word “laws,” therefore, being a material word, leaves the whole question just where it found it—for it certainly does not, of itself —nor indeed does any other part of the clause—say that an act of a legislature, declaring one man to be the property of another, is a “law” within the meaning of the constitution. As far as the word “laws” says anything on the subject, it says that such acts are not laws—for such acts are clearly inconsistent with natural law—and it yet remains to be shown that they are consistent with any constitution whatever, state or national.

The burden of proof, then, still rests upon the advocates of slavery, to show that an act of a State legislature, declaring one man to be the property of another, is a “law,” within the meaning of this clause. To assert simply that it is, without proving it to be so, is a mere begging of the question—for that is the very point in dispute.

The question, therefore, of the constitutionality of the slave acts must first be determined, before it can be decided that they are “laws” within the meaning of the constitution. That is, they must be shown to be consistent with the constitution, before they can be said to be sanctioned as “laws” by the constitution. Can any proposition be plainer than this? And yet the reverse must be assumed, in this case, by the advocates of slavery.

The simple fact, that an act purports to “hold persons to service or labor,” clearly cannot, of itself, make the act constitutional. If it could, any act, purporting to hold “persons to service or labor,” would necessarily be constitutional, without any regard to the “persons” so held, or the conditions on which they were held. It would be constitutional, solely because it purported to hold persons to service or labor. If this were the true doctrine, any of us, without respect of persons, might be held to service or labor, at the pleasure of the legislature. And then, if “service or labor” mean slavery, it would follow that any of us, without discrimination, might be made slaves. And thus the result would be, that the acts of a legislature would be constitutional, solely because they made slaves of the people. Certainly this would be a new test of the constitutionality of laws.

All the arguments in favor of slavery, that have heretofore been drawn from this clause of the constitution, have been founded on the assumption, that if an act of a legislature did but purport to “hold persons to service or labor”—no matter how, on what conditions, or for what cause—that fact alone was sufficient to make the act constitutional. The entire sum of the argument, in favor of slavery, is but this, viz., the constitution recognizes the constitutionality of “laws” that “hold persons to service or labor,”—slave acts “hold persons to service or labor,”—therefore slave acts must be constitutional. This profound syllogism is the great pillar of slavery in this country. It has, (if we are to judge by results,) withstood the scrutiny of all the legal acumen of this nation for fifty years and more. If it should continue to withstand it for as many years as it has already done, it will then be time to propound the following, to wit: The State constitutions recognize the right of men to acquire property; theft, robbery, and murder are among the modes in which property may be acquired; therefore theft, robbery, and murder are recognized by these constitutions as lawful.

No doubt the clause contemplates that there may be constitutional “laws,” under which persons may be “held to service or labor.” But it does not follow, therefore, that every act, that purports to hold “persons to service or labor,” is constitutional.

We are obliged, then, to determine whether a statute be constitutional, before we can determine whether the “service or labor” required by it, is sanctioned by the constitution as being lawfully required. The simple fact, that the statute would “hold persons to service or labor,” is, of itself, no evidence, either for or against its constitutionality. Whether it be or be not constitutional, may depend upon a variety of contingencies—such as the kind of service or labor required, and the conditions on which it requires it. Any service or labor, that is inconsistent with the duties which the constitution requires of the people, is of course not sanctioned by this clause of the constitution as being lawfully required. Neither, of course, is the requirement of service or labor, on any conditions, that are inconsistent with any rights that are secured to the people by the constitution, sanctioned by the constitution as lawful. Slave laws, then, can obviously be held to be sanctioned by this clause of the constitution, only by gratuitously assuming, 1st, that the constitution neither confers any rights, nor imposes any duties upon the people of the United States, inconsistent with their being made slaves; and, 2d, that it sanctions the general principle of holding “persons to service or labor” arbitrarily, without contract, without compensation, and without the charge of crime. If this be really the kind of constitution that has been in force since 1789, it is somewhat wonderful that there are so few slaves in the country. On the other hand, if the constitution be not of this kind, it is equally wonderful that we have any slaves at all—for the instrument offers no ground for saying that a colored man may be made a slave, and a white man not.

Again. Slave acts were not “laws” according to any State constitution that was in existence at the time the constitution of the United States was adopted. And if they were not “laws” a that time, they have not been made so since.

6. The constitution itself, (Art. 1, Sec. 2,) in fixing the basis of representation, has plainly denied that those described in Art 4 as “persons held to service or labor,” are slaves,—for it declares that “persons bound to service for a term of years” shall be “included” in the “number of free persons.” There is no legal difference between being “bound to service,” and being “held to service or labor.” The addition, in the one instance, of the words “for a term of years,” does not alter the case, for it does not appear that, in the other, they are “held to service or labor” beyond a fixed term—and, in the absence of evidence from the constitution itself, the presumption must be that they are not—because such a presumption saves the necessity of going out of the constitution to find the persons intended, and it is also more consistent with the prevalent municipal, and with natural law.

And it makes no difference to this result, whether the word “free,” in the first article, be used in the political sense common at that day, or as the correlative of slavery. In either case, the persons described as “free,” could not be made slaves.

7. The words “service or labor” cannot be made to include slavery, unless by reversing the legal principle, that the greater includes the less, and holding that the less includes the greater; that the innocent includes the criminal; that a sanction of what is right, includes a sanction of what is wrong.

Another clause relied on as a recognition of the constitutionality of slavery, is the following, (Art. 1, Sec. 2:)

“Representatives and direct taxes shall be apportioned among the several States, which may be included within this Union, according to their respective numbers, which shall be determined by adding to the whole number of free persons, including those bound to service for a term of years, and excluding Indians not taxed, three fifths of all other persons.”

The argument claimed from this clause, in support of slavery, rests entirely upon the word “free,” and the words “all other persons.” Or rather, it rests entirely upon the meaning of the word “free,” for the application of the words “all other persons” depends upon the meaning given to the word “free.” The slave argument assumes, gratuitously, that the word “free” is used as the correlative of slavery, and thence it infers that the words “all other persons,” mean slaves.

It is obvious that the word “free” affords no argument for slavery, unless a meaning correlative with slavery be arbitrarily given to it, for the very purpose of making the constitution sanction or recognize slavery. Now it is very clear that no such meaning can be given to the word, for such a purpose. The ordinary meaning of a word cannot be thus arbitrarily changed, for the sake of sanctioning a wrong. A choice of meaning would be perfectly allowable, and even obligatory, if made for the purpose of avoiding any such sanction; but it is entirely inadmissible for the purpose of giving it. The legal rules of interpretation, heretofore laid down, imperatively require this preference of the right, over the wrong, in all cases where a word is susceptible of different meanings.

The English law had for centuries used the word “free” as describing persons possessing citizenship, or some other franchise or peculiar privilege—as distinguished from aliens, and persons not possessed of such franchise or privilege. This law, and this use of the word “free,” as has already been shown, (Ch. 6,) had been adopted in this country from its first settlement. The colonial charters all (probably without an exception) recognized it. The colonial legislation generally, if not universally, recognized it. The State constitutions, in existence at the time the constitution of the United States was formed and adopted, used the word in this sense, and no other. The Articles of Confederation—the then existing national compact of union—used the word in this sense and no other. The sense is an appropriate one in itself; the most appropriate to, and consistent with, the whole character of the constitution, of any of which the word is susceptible. In fact, it is the only one that is either appropriate to, or consistent with, the other parts of the instrument. Why, then, is it not the legal meaning? Manifestly it is the legal meaning. No reason whatever can be given against it, except that, if such be its meaning, the constitution will not sanction slavery! A very good reason—a perfectly unanswerable reason, in fact—in favor of this meaning; but a very futile one against it.

It is evident that the word “free” is not used as the correlative of slavery, because “Indians not taxed” are “excluded” from its application—yet they are not therefore slaves.

Again. The word “free” cannot be presumed to be used as the correlative of slavery—because slavery then had no legal existence. The word must obviously be presumed to be used as the correlative of something that did legally exist, rather than of something that did not legally exist. If it were used as the correlative of something that did not legally exist, the words “all other persons” would have no legal application. Until, then, it be shown that slavery had a legal existence, authorized either by the United States constitution, or by the then existing State constitutions—a thing that cannot be shown—the word “free” certainly cannot be claimed to have been used as its correlative.

But even if slavery had been authorized by the State constitutions, the word “free,” in the United States constitution, could not have been claimed to have been used as its correlative, unless it had appeared that the United States constitution had itself provided or suggested no correlative of the word “free;” for it would obviously be absurd and inadmissible to go out of an instrument to find the intended correlative of one of its own words, when it had itself suggested one. This the constitution of the United States has done, in the persons of aliens. The power of naturalization is, by the constitution, taken from the States, and given exclusively to the United States. The constitution of the United States, therefore, necessarily supposes the existence of aliens—and thus furnishes the correlative sought for. It furnishes a class both for the word “free,” and the words “all other persons,” to apply to. And yet the slave argument contends that we must overlook these distinctions, necessarily growing out of the laws of the United States, and go out of the constitution of the United States to find the persons whom it describes as the “free,” and “all other persons.” And what makes the argument the more absurd is, that by going out of the instrument to the then existing State constitutions —the only instruments to which we can go—we can find there no other persons for the words to apply to—no other classes answering to the description of the “free persons” and “all other persons,”—than the very classes suggested by the United States constitution itself, to wit, citizens and aliens; (for it has previously been shown that the then existing State constitutions recognized no such persons as slaves.)

If we are obliged (as the slave argument claims we are) to go out of the constitution of the United States to find the class whom it describes as “all other persons” than “the free,” we shall, for aught I see, be equally obliged to go out of it to find those whom it describes as the “free”—for “the free,” and “all other persons” than “the free,” must be presumed to be found described somewhere in the same instrument. If, then, we are obliged to go out of the constitution to find the persons described in it as “the free” and “all other persons,” we are obliged to go out of it to ascertain who are the persons on whom it declares that the representation of the government shall be based, and on whom, of course, the government is founded. And thus we should have the absurdity of a constitution that purports to authorize a government, yet leaves us to go in search of the people who are to be represented in it. Besides, if we are obliged to go out of the constitution, to find the persons on whom the government rests, and those persons are arbitrarily prescribed by some other instrument, independent of the constitution, this contradiction would follow, viz., that the United States government would be a subordinate government—a mere appendage to something else—a tail to some other kite—or rather a tail to a large number of kites at once—instead of being, as it declares itself to be, the supreme government—its constitution and laws being the supreme law of the land.

Again. It certainly cannot be admitted that we must go out of the United States constitution to find the classes whom it describes as “the free,” and “all other persons” than “the free,” until it be shown that the constitution has told us where to go to find them. In all other cases, (without an exception, I think,) where the constitution makes any of its provisions dependent upon the State constitutions or State legislatures, it has particularly described them as depending upon them. But it gives no intimation that it has left it with the State constitutions, or the State legislatures, to prescribe whom it means by the terms “free persons” and “all other persons,” on whom it requires its own representation to be based. We have, therefore, no more authority from the constitution of the United States, for going to the State constitutions, to find the classes described in the former as the “free persons” and “all other persons,” than we have for going to Turkey or Japan. We are compelled, therefore, to find them in the constitution of the United States itself, if any answering to the description can possibly be found there.

Again. If we were permitted to go to the State constitutions, or to the State statute books, to find who were the persons intended by the constitution of the United States; and if, as the slave argument assumes, it was left to the States respectively to prescribe who should, and who should not, be “free” within the meaning of the constitution of the United States, it would follow that the terms “free” and “all other persons,” might be applied in as many different ways, and to as many different classes of persons, as there were different States in the Union. Not only so, but the application might also be varied at pleasure in the same State. One inevitable consequence of this state of things would be, that there could be neither a permanent, nor a uniform basis of representation throughout the country. Another possible, and even probable consequence would be, such inextricable confusion, as to the persons described by the same terms in the different States, that Congress could not apportion the national representation at all, in the manner required by the constitution. The questions of law, arising out of the different uses of the word “free,” by the different States, might be made so endless and inexplicable, that the State governments might entirely defeat all the power of the general government to make an apportionment.

If the slave construction be put upon this clause, still another difficulty, in the way of making an apportionment, would follow, viz., that Congress could have no legal knowledge of the persons composing each of the two different classes, on which its representation must be based; for there is no legal record—known to the laws of the United States, or even to the laws of the States—of those who are slaves, or those who are not. The information obtained by the census takers, (who have no legal records to go to,) must, in the nature of things, be of the most loose and uncertain character, on such points as these. Any accurate or legal knowledge on the subject is, therefore, obviously impossible. But if the other construction be adopted, this difficulty is avoided—for Congress then have the control of the whole matter, and may adopt such means as may be necessary for ascertaining accurately the persons who belong to each of these different classes. And by their naturalization laws they actually do provide for a legal record of all who are made “free” by naturalization.

And this consideration of certainty, as to the individuals and numbers belonging to each of these two classes, “free” and “all other persons,” acquires an increased and irresistible force, when it is considered that these different classes of persons constitute also different bases for taxation, as well as representation. The requirement of the constitution is, that “representatives and direct taxes shall be apportioned,” &c., according to the number of “free persons” and “all other persons.” In reference to so important a subject as taxation, accurate and legal knowledge of the persons and numbers belonging to the different classes, becomes indispensable. Yet under the slave construction this legal knowledge becomes impossible. Under the other construction it is as perfectly and entirely within the power of Congress, as, in the nature of things, such a subject can be—for naturalization is a legal process; and legal records, prescribed by Congress, may be, and actually are, preserved of all the persons naturalized or made “free” by their laws.

If we adopt that meaning of the word “free,” which is consistent with freedom—that meaning which is consistent with natural right—the meaning given to it by the Articles of Confederation, by the then existing State constitutions, by the colonial charters, and by the English law ever since our ancestors enjoyed the name of freemen, all these difficulties, inconsistencies, contradictions and absurdities, that must otherwise arise, vanish. The word “free” then describes the native and naturalized citizens of the United States, and the words “all other persons” describe resident aliens, “Indians not taxed,” and possibly some others. The represensentation is then placed upon the best, most just, and most rational basis that the words used can be made to describe. The repretation also becomes equal and uniform throughout the country. The principle of distinction between the two bases, becomes also a stable, rational and intelligible one—one too necessarily growing out of the exercise of one of the powers granted to Congress;—one, too, whose operation could have been foreseen and judged of by the people who adopted the constitution—instead of one fluctuating with the ever-changing and arbitrary legislation of the various States, whose mode and motives of action could not have been anticipated. Adopt this definition of the word “free,” and the same legislature (that is, the national one) that is required by the constitution to apportion the representation according to certain principles, becomes invested—as it evidently ought to be, and as it necessarily must be, to be efficient—with the power of determining, by their own (naturalization) laws, who are the persons composing the different bases on which its apportionment is to be made; instead of being, as they otherwise would be, obliged to seek for these persons through all the statute books of all the different States of the Union, and through all the evidences of private property, under which one of these classes might be held. Adopt this definition of the word “free,” and the United States government becomes, so far at least as its popular representation—which is its most important feature—is concerned, an independent government, subsisting by its own vigor, and pervaded throughout by one uniform principle. Reject this definition, and the popular national representation loses at once its nationality, and becomes a mere dependency on the will of local corporations—a mere shuttlecock to be driven hither and thither by the arbitrary and conflicting legislation of an indefinite number of separate States. Adopt this meaning of the word “free,” and the national government becomes capable of knowing its own bases of representation and power, and its own subjects of taxation. Reject this definition, and the government knows not whom it represents, or on whom to levy taxes for its support. Adopt this meaning of the word “free,” and some three millions of native born, but now crushed human beings, become, with their posterity, men and citizens. Adopt this meaning—this legal meaning—this only meaning that can, in this clause, be legally given to the word “free,” and our constitution becomes, instead of a nefarious compact of conspirators against the rights of man, a consistent and impartial contract of government between all “the people of the United States,” for securing “to themselves and their posterity the blessings of liberty” and “justice.”

Again. We cannot unnecessarily place upon the constitution a meaning directly destructive of the government it was designed to establish. By giving to the word “free” the meaning universally given to it by our political papers of a similar character up to the time the constitution was adopted, we give to the government three millions of citizens, ready to fight and be taxed for its support. By giving to the word “free” a meaning correlative with slavery, we locate in our midst three millions of enemies; thus making a difference of six millions, (one third of our whole number,) in the physical strength of the nation. Certainly a meaning so suicidal towards the government, cannot be given to any part of the constitution, except the language be irresistibly explicit; much less can it be done, (as in this case it would be,) wantonly, unnecessarily, gratuitously, wickedly, and in violation of all previous usage.

Again. If we look into the constitution itself for the meaning of the word “free,” we find it to result from the distinction there recognized between citizens and aliens. If we look into the contemporary State constitutions, we still find the word “free” to express the political relation of the individual to the State, and not any property relation of one individual to another. If we look into the law of nature for the meaning of the word “free,” we find that by that law all mankind are free. Whether, therefore, we look to the constitution itself, to the contemporary State constitutions, or to the law of nature, for the meaning of this word “free,” the only meaning we shall find is one consistent with the personal liberty of all. On the other hand, if we are resolved to give the word a meaning correlative with slavery, we must go to the lawless code of the kidnapper to find such a meaning. Does it need any argument to prove to which of these different codes our judicial tribunals are bound to go, to find the meaning of the words used in a constitution, that is established professedly to secure liberty and justice?

Once more. It is altogether a false, absurd, violent, unnatural and preposterous proceeding, in construing a political paper, which purports to establish men’s relations to the State, and especially in construing the clause in which it fixes the basis of representation and taxation, to give to the words, which describe the persons to be represented and taxed, and which appropriately indicate those relations of men to the State which make them proper subjects of taxation and representation—to give to such words a meaning, which, instead of describing men’s relations to the State, would describe merely a personal or property relation of one individual to another, which the State has nowhere else recognized, and which, if admitted to exist, would absolve the persons described from all allegiance to the State, would deny them all right to be represented, and discharge them from all liability to be taxed.[*]

But it is unnecessary to follow out this slave argument into all its ramifications. It sets out with nothing but assumptions, that are gratuitous, absurd, improbable, irrelevant, contrary to all previous usage, contrary to natural right, and therefore inadmissible. It conducts to nothing but contradictions, absurdities, impossibilities, indiscriminate slavery, anarchy, and the destruction of the very government which the constitution was designed to establish.

The other clause relied on as a recognition and sanction, both of slavery and the slave trade, is the following:

“The migration or importation of such persons as any of the States now existing shall think proper to admit, shall not be prohibited by the Congress prior to the year one thousand eight hundred and eight, but a tax or duty may be imposed on such importation, not exceeding ten dollars for each person.”—(Art. 1, Sec. 9.)

The slave argument, drawn from this clause, is, that the word “importation” applies only to property, and that it therefore implies, in this clause, that the persons to be imported are necessarily to be imported as property—that is, as slaves.

But the idea that the word “importation” applies only to property, is erroneous. It applies correctly both to persons and things. The definition of the verb “import” is simply “to bring from a foreign country, or jurisdiction, or from another State, into one’s own country, jurisdiction or State.” When we speak of “importing” things, it is true that we mentally associate with them the idea of property. But that is simply because things are property, and not because the word “import” has any control, in that particular, over the character of the things imported. When we speak of importing “persons,” we do not associate with them the idea of property, simply because “persons” are not property.

We speak daily of the “importation of foreigners into the country;” but no one infers therefrom that they are brought in as slaves, but as passengers. A vessel imports, or brings in, five hundred passengers. Every vessel, or master of a vessel, that “brings in” passengers, “imports” them. But such passengers are not therefore slaves. A man imports his wife and children—but they are not therefore his slaves, or capable of being owned or sold as his property. A man imports a gang of laborers, to clear lands, cut canals, or construct railroads; but not therefore to be held as slaves. An innocent meaning must be given to the word, if it will bear one. Such is the legal rule.

Even the popular understanding of the word “import,” when applied to “persons,” does not convey the idea of property. It is only when it is applied distinctly to “slaves,” that any such idea is conveyed; and then it is the word “slaves,” and not the word “import,” that suggests the idea of property. Even slave traders and slave holders attach no such meaning to the word “import,” when it is connected with the word “persons;” but only when it is connected with the word “slaves.”

In the case of Ogden vs. Saunders, (12 Wheaton, 332,) Chief Justice Marshall said, that in construing the constitution, “the intention of the instrument must prevail; that this intention must be collected from its words; that its words are to be understood in that sense in which they are generally used by those for whom the instrument was intended.” On this principle of construction, there is not the least authority for saying that this provision for “the importation of persons,” authorized the importation of them as slaves. To give it this meaning, requires the same stretching of words towards the wrong, that is applied, by the advocates of slavery, to the words “service or labor,” and the words “free” and “all other persons.”

Another reason, which makes it necessary that this construction should be placed upon the word “importation,” is, that the clause contains no other word that describes the immigration of foreigners. Yet that the clause related to the immigration of foreigners generally, and that it restrained Congress, (up to the year 1808,) from prohibiting the immigration of foreigners generally, there can be no doubt.

The object, and the only legal object, of the clause was to restrain Congress from so exercising their “power of regulating commerce with foreign nations, and among the several States, and with the Indian tribes”—(which power has been decided by the Supreme Court of the United States, to include a power over navigation and the transportation of passengers in boats and vessels[*] )—as to obstruct the introduction of new population into such of the States as were desirous of increasing their population in that manner. The clause does not imply at all, that the population, which the States were thus to “admit,” was to be a slave population.

The word “importation,” (I repeat,) is the only word in the clause, that applies to persons that were to come into the country from foreign nations. The word “migration” applies only to those who were to go out from one of our own States or Territories into another. “Migration” is the act of going out from a state or country; and differs from immigration in this, that immigration is the act of coming into a state or country. It is obvious, therefore, that the “migration,” which Congress are here forbidden to prohibit, is simply the going out of persons from one of our own States or Territories into another—(for that is the only “migration” that could come within the jurisdiction of Congress)—and that it has no reference to persons coming in from foreign countries to our own.

If, then, “migration,” as here used, has reference only to persons going out from one State into another, the word “importation” is the only one in the clause that is applicable to foreigners coming into our country. This word “importation,” then, being the only word that can apply to persons coming into the country, it must be considered as substantially synonymous with immigration, and must apply equally to all “persons,” that are “imported,” or brought into the country as passengers. And if it applies equally to all persons, that are brought in as passengers, it does not imply that any of those persons are slaves; for no one will pretend that this clause ever authorized the State governments to treat as slaves all persons that were brought into the country as passengers. And if it did not authorize them to treat all such passengers as slaves, it did not authorize them to treat any of them as such; for it makes no discrimination between the different “persons” that should be thus imported.

Again. The argument, that the allowance of the “importation” of “persons,” implies the allowance of property in such persons, would imply a recognition of the validity of the slave laws of other countries; for unless slaves were obtained by valid purchase abroad—which purchase implies the existence and validity of foreign slave laws—the importer certainly could not claim to import his slaves as property; but he would appear at the custom-house as a mere pirate, claiming to have his captures legalized. So that, according to the slave argument, the simple use of the word “importation,” in the constitution, as applied to “persons,” bound our government, not only to the sanction and toleration of slavery in our own country, but to the recognition of the validity of the slave laws of other countries.

But further. The allowance of the “importation” of slaves, as such, under this clause of the constitution, would imply that Congress must take actual, and even the most critical cognizance of the slave laws of other countries; and that they should allow neither the mere word of the person calling himself the owner, nor anything short of the fullest and clearest legal proof, according to the laws of those countries, to be sufficient to enable him to enter his slaves, as property, at the custom-house; otherwise any masters of vessels, from England or France, as well as from Africa, might, on their arrival here, claim their passengers as slaves. Did the constitution, in this clause, by simply using the word “importation,” instead of immigration, intend to throw upon the national government—at the hazard of making it a party to the illegal enslavement of human beings—the responsibility of investigating and deciding upon the legality and credibility of all the evidence that might be offered by the piratical masters of slave ships, to prove their valid purchase of, and their right of property in, their human cargoes, according to the slave laws of the countries from which they should bring them? Such must have been the intention of the constitution, if it intended (as it must, if it intended anything of this kind) that the fact of “importation” under the commercial regulations of Congress, should be thereafter a sufficient authority for holding in slavery the persons imported.

But perhaps it will be said that it was not the intention of the constitution, that Congress should take any responsibility at all in the matter; that it was merely intended that whoever came into the country with a cargo of men, whom he called his slaves, should be permitted to bring them in on his own responsibility, and sell them as slaves for life to our people; and that Congress were prohibited only from interfering, or asking any questions as to how he obtained them, or how they became his slaves. Suppose such were the intention of the constitution—what follows? Why, that the national government, the only government that was to be known to foreign nations, the only government that was to be permitted to regulate our commerce or make treaties with foreign nations, the government on whom alone was to rest the responsibility of war with foreign nations, was bound to permit (until 1808) all masters, both of our own ships and of the ships of other nations, to turn pirates, and make slaves of their passengers, whether Englishmen, Frenchmen, or any other civilized people, (for the constitution makes no distinction of “persons” on this point,) bring them into this country, sell them as slaves for life to our people, and thus make our country a rendezvous and harbor for pirates, involve us inevitably in war with every civilized nation in the world, cause ourselves to be outlawed as a people, and bring certain and swift destruction upon the whole nation; and yet this government, that had the sole responsibility of all our foreign relations, was constitutionally prohibited from interfering in the matter, or from doing anything but lifting its hands in prayer to God and these pirates, that the former would so far depart, and the latter so far desist from their usual courses, as might be necessary to save us until 1808, (after which time we would take the matter into our own hands, and, by prohibiting the cause of the danger, save ourselves,) from the just vengeance, which the rest of mankind were taking upon us.

This is the kind of constitution, under which (according to the slave argument) we lived until 1808.

But is such the real character of the constitution? By it, did we thus really avow to the world that we were a nation of pirates? that our territory should be a harbor for pirates? that our people were constitutionally licensed to enslave the people of all other nations, without discrimination, (for the instrument makes no discrimination,) whom they could either kidnap in their own countries, or capture on the high seas? and that we had even prohibited our only government that could make treaties with foreign nations, from making any treaty, until 1808, with any particular nation, to exempt the people of that nation from their liability to be enslaved by the people of our own? The slave argument says that we did avow all this. If we really did, perhaps all that can be said of it now is, that it is very fortunate for us that other nations did not take us at our word. For if they had taken us at our word, we should, before 1808, have been among the nations that were.

Suppose that, on the organization of our government, we had been charged by foreign nations with having established a piratical government—how could we have rebutted the charge otherwise than by denying that the words “importation of persons” legally implied that the persons imported were slaves? Suppose that European ambassadors had represented to President Washington that their governments considered our constitution as licensing our people to kidnap the people of other nations, without discrimination, and bring them to the United States as slaves. Would he not have denied that the legal meaning of the clause did anything more than secure the free introduction of foreigners as passengers and freemen? Or would he— he, the world-renowned champion of human rights—have indeed stooped to the acknowledgment that in truth he was the head of a nation of pirates, whose constitution did guaranty the freedom of kidnapping men abroad, and importing them as slaves? And would he, in the event of this acknowledgment, have sought to avert the destruction, which such an avowal would be likely to bring upon the nation, by pleading that, although such was the legal meaning of the words of our constitution, we yet had an understanding, (an honorable understanding!) among ourselves, that we would not take advantage of the license to kidnap or make slaves of any of the citizens of those civilized and powerful nations of Europe, that kept ships of war, and knew the use of gunpowder and cannon; but only the people of poor, weak, barbarous and ignorant nations, who were incapable of resistance and retaliation?

Again. Even the allowance of the simple “importation” of slaves—(and that is the most that is literally provided for—and the word “importation” must be construed to the letter,) would not, of itself, give any authority for the continuance of slavery after “importation.” If a man bring either property or persons into this country, he brings them in to abide the constitutional laws of the country; and not to be held according to the customs of the country from which they were brought. Were it not so, the Turk might import a harem of Georgian slaves, and, at his option, either hold them as his own property, or sell them as slaves to our own people, in defiance of any principles of freedom that should prevail amongst us. To allow this kind of “importation,” would be to allow not merely the importation of foreign “persons,” but also foreign laws to take precedence of our own.

Finally. The conclusion, that Congress were restrained, by this clause, only from prohibiting the immigration of a foreign population, and not from prohibiting the importation of slaves, to be held as slaves after their importation—is the more inevitable from the fact that the power given to Congress of naturalizing foreigners, is entirely unlimited—except that their laws must be uniform throughout the United States. They have perfect power to pass laws that shall naturalize every foreigner without distinction, the moment he sets foot on our soil. And they had this power as perfectly prior to 1808, as since. And it is a power entirely inconsistent with the idea that they were bound to admit, and forever after to acknowledge as slaves, all or any who might be attempted to be brought into the country as such.[*]

One other provision of the constitution, viz., the one that, “the United States shall protect each of the States against domestic violence”—has sometimes been claimed as a special pledge of impunity and succor to that kind of “violence,” which consists in one portion of the people’s standing constantly upon the necks of another portion, and robbing them of all civil privileges, and trampling upon all their personal rights. The argument seems to take it for granted, that the only proper way of protecting a “republican” State (for the States are all to be “republican”) against “domestic violence,” is to plant men firmly upon one another’s necks, (about in the proportion of two upon one,) arm the two with whip and spur, and then keep an armed force standing by to cut down those that are ridden, if they dare attempt to throw the riders. When the ridden portion shall, by this process, have been so far subdued as to bear the burdens, lashings and spurrings of the other portion without resistance, then the state will have been secured against “domestic violence,” and the “republican form of government” will be completely successful.

This version of this provision of the constitution presents a fair illustration of those new ideas of law and language, that have been invented for the special purpose of bringing slavery within the pale of the constitution.

If it have been shown that none of the other clauses of the constitution refer to slavery, this one, of course, cannot be said to refer to slave insurrections; because if the constitution presumes everybody to be free, it of course does not suppose that there can be such a thing as an insurrection of slaves.

But further. The legal meaning, and the only legal meaning of the word “violence,” in this clause, is unlawful force. The guaranty, therefore, is one of protection only against unlawful force. Let us apply this doctrine to the case of the slaves and their masters, and see which party is entitled to be protected against the other. Slaveholding is not an act of law; it is an act of pure “violence,” or unlawful force. It is a mere trespass, or assault, committed by one person upon another. For example—one person beats another, until the latter will obey him, work for him without wages, or, in case of a woman, submit to be violated. Such was the character (as has been already shown) of all the slaveholding practised in this country at the adoption of the constitution. Resistance to such slaveholding is not “violence,” nor resistance to law; it is nothing more nor less than self-defence against a trespass. It is a perfectly lawful resistance to an assault and battery. It can no more be called “violence,” (unlawful force,) than resistance to a burglar, an assassin, a highwayman, or a ravisher, can be called “violence.” All the “violence” (unlawful force) there is in the case, consists in the aggression, not in the resistance. This clause, then, so far as it relates to slavery, is a guaranty against the “violence” of slaveholding, not against any necessary act of self-defence on the part of the slave.

We have thus examined all those clauses of the constitution, that have been relied on to prove that the instrument recognizes and sanctions slavery. No one would have ever dreamed that either of these clauses alone, or that all of them together, contained so much as an allusion to slavery, had it not been for circumstances extraneous to the constitution itself. And what are these extraneous circumstances? They are the existence and toleration, in one portion of the country, of a crime that embodies within itself nearly all the other crimes, which it is the principal object of all our governments to punish and suppress; a crime which we have therefore no more right to presume that the constitution of the United States intended to sanction, than we have to presume that it intended to sanction all the separate crimes which slavery embodies, and our governments prohibit. Yet we have gratuitously presumed that the constitution intended to sanction all these separate crimes, as they are comprehended in the general crime of slavery. And acting upon this gratuitous presumption, we have sought, in the words of the constitution, for some hidden meaning, which we could imagine to have been understood, by the initiated, as referring to slavery; or rather we have presumed its words to have been used as a kind of cipher, which, among confederates in crime, (as we presume its authors to have been,) was meant to stand for slavery. In this way, and in this way only, we pretend to have discovered, in the clauses that have been examined, a hidden, yet legal sanction of slavery. In the name of all that is legal, who of us are safe, if our governments, instead of searching our constitutions to find authorities for maintaining justice, are to continue to busy themselves in such prying and microscopic investigations, after such disguised and enigmatical authorities for such wrongs as that of slavery, and their pretended discoveries are to be adopted as law, which they are sworn to carry into execution?

The clauses mentioned, taken either separately or collectively, neither assert, imply, sanction, recognize nor acknowledge any such thing as slavery. They do not even speak of it. They make no allusion to it whatever. They do not suggest, and, of themselves, never would have suggested the idea of slavery. There is, in the whole instrument, no such word as slave or slavery; nor any language that can legally be made to assert or imply the existence of slavery. There is in it nothing about color; nothing from which a liability to slavery can be predicated of one person more than another; or from which such a liability can be predicated of any person whatever. The clauses, that have been claimed for slavery, are all, in themselves, honest in their language, honest in their legal meaning; and they can be made otherwise only by such gratuitous assumptions against natural right, and such straining of words in favor of the wrong, as, if applied to other clauses, would utterly destroy every principle of liberty and justice, and allow the whole instrument to be perverted to every conceivable purpose of tyranny and crime.

Yet these perversions of the constitution are made by the advocates of slavery, not merely in defiance of those legal rules of interpretation, which apply to all instruments of the kind, but also in defiance of the express language of the preamble, which declares that the object of the instrument is to “establish justice” and “secure liberty”—which declaration alone would furnish an imperative rule of interpretation, independently of all other rules.

Let us now look at the positive provisions of the constitution, in favor of liberty, and see whether they are not only inconsistent with any legal sanction of slavery, but also whether they must not, of themselves, have necessarily extinguished slavery, if it had had any constitutional existence to be extinguished.

And, first, the constitution made all “the people of the United States” citizens under the government to be established by it; for all of those, by whose authority the constitution declares itself to be established, must of course be presumed to have been made citizens under it. And whether they were entitled or not to the right of suffrage, they were at least entitled to all the personal liberty and protection, which the constitution professes to secure to “the people” generally.

Who, then, established the constitution?

The preamble to the constitution has told us in the plainest possible terms, to wit, that “We, the people of the United States,” “do ordain and establish this constitution,” &c.

By “the people of the United States,” here mentioned, the constitution intends all “the people” then permanently inhabiting the United States. If it does not intend all, who were intended by “the people of the United States?”—The constitution itself gives no answer to such a question.—It does not declare that “we, the white people,” or “we, the free people,” or “we, a part of the people”—but that “we, the people”—that is, we the whole people—of the United States, “do ordain and establish this constitution.”

If the whole people of the United States were not recognized as citizens by the constitution, then the constitution gives no information as to what portion of the people were to be citizens under it. And the consequence would then follow that the constitution established a government that could not know its own citizens.

We cannot go out of the constitution for evidence to prove who were to be citizens under it. We cannot go out of a written instrument for evidence to prove the parties to it, nor to explain its meaning, except the language of the instrument on that point be ambiguous. In this case there is no ambiguity. The language of the instrument is perfectly explicit and intelligible.

Because the whole people of the country were not allowed to vote on the ratification of the constitution, it does not follow that they were not made citizens under it; for women and children did not vote on its adoption; yet they are made citizens by it, and are entitled as citizens to its protection; and the State governments cannot enslave them. The national constitution does not limit the right of citizenship and protection by the right of suffrage, any more than do the State constitutions. Under the most, probably under all, the State constitutions, there are persons who are denied the right of suffrage—but they are not therefore liable to be enslaved.

Those who did take part in the actual ratification of the constitution, acted in behalf of, and, in theory, represented the authority of the whole people. Such is the theory in this country wherever suffrage is confined to a few; and such is the virtual declaration of the constitution itself. The declaration that “we the people of the United States do ordain and establish this constitution,” is equivalent to a declaration that those who actually participated in its adoption, acted in behalf of all others, as well as for themselves.

Any private intentions or understandings, on the part of one portion of the people, as to who should be citizens, cannot be admitted to prove that such portion only were intended by the constitution, to be citizens; for the intentions of the other portion would be equally admissible to exclude the exclusives. The mass of the people of that day could claim citizenship under the constitution, on no other ground than as being a part of “the people of the United States;” and such claim necessarily admits that all other “people of the United States” were equally citizens.

That the designation, “We, the people of the United States,” included the whole people that properly belonged to the United States, is also proved by the fact that no exception is made in any other part of the instrument.

If the constitution had intended that any portion of “the people of the United States” should be excepted from its benefits, disfranchised, outlawed, enslaved; it would of course have designated these exceptions with such particularity as to make it sure that none but the true persons intended would be liable to be subjected to such wrongs. Yet, instead of such particular designation of the exceptions, we find no designation whatever of the kind. But on the contrary, we do find, in the preamble itself, a sweeping declaration to the effect that there are no such exceptions; that the whole people of the United States are citizens, and entitled to liberty, protection, and the dispensation of justice under the constitution.

If it be admitted that the constitution designated its own citizens, then there is no escape from the conclusion that it designated the whole people of the United States as such. On the other hand, if it be denied that the constitution designated its own citizens, one of these two conclusions must follow, viz., 1st, that it has no citizens; or, 2d, that it has left an unrestrained power in the State governments to determine who may, and who may not be citizens of the United States government. If the first of these conclusions be adopted, viz., that the constitution has no citizens, then it follows that there is really no United States government, except on paper—for there would be as much reason in talking of an army without men, as of a government without citizens. If the second conclusion be adopted, viz., that the State governments have the right of determining who may, and who may not be citizens of the United States government, then it follows that the state governments may at pleasure destroy the government of the United States, by enacting that none of their respective inhabitants shall be citizens of the United States.

This latter is really the doctrine of some of the slave States—the “state-rights” doctrine, so called. That doctrine holds that the general government is merely a confederacy or league of the several States, as States; not a government established by the people, as individuals. This “state-rights” doctrine has been declared unconstitutional by reiterated opinions of the Supreme Court of the United States;[*] and, what is of more consequence, it is denied also by the preamble to the constitution itself, which declares that it is “the people” (and not the State governments) that ordain and establish it. It is true also that the constitution was ratified by conventions of the people, and not by the legislatures of the States. Yet because the constitution was ratified by conventions of the States separately, (as it naturally would be for convenience, and as it necessarily must have been for the reason that none but the people of the respective States could recall any portion of the authority they had delegated to their State governments, so as to grant it to the United States government,)—yet because it was thus ratified, I say, some of the slave States have claimed that the general government was a league of States, instead of a government formed by “the people.” The true reason why the slave States have held this theory, probably is, because it would give, or appear to give, to the States the right of determining who should, and who should not, be citizens of the United States. They probably saw that if it were admitted that the constitution of the United States had designated its own citizens, it had undeniably designated the whole people of the then United States as such; and that, as a State could not enslave a citizen of the United States, (on account of the supremacy of the constitution of the United States,) it would follow that there could be no constitutional slavery in the United States.

Again. If the constitution was established by authority of all “the people of the United States,” they were all legally parties to it, and citizens under it. And if they were parties to it, and citizens under it, it follows that neither they, nor their posterity, nor any nor either of them, can ever be legally enslaved within the territory of the United States; for the constitution declares its object to be, among other things, “to secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves, and our posterity.” This purpose of the national constitution is a law paramount to all State constitutions; for it is declared that “this constitution, and the laws of the United States that shall be made in pursuance thereof, and all treaties made, or which shall be made under the authority of the United States, shall be the supreme law of the land; and the judges in every State shall be bound thereby, anything in the constitution or laws of any State to the contrary notwithstanding.”

No one, I suppose, doubts that if the State governments were to abolish slavery, the slaves would then, without further legislation, become citizens of the United States. Yet, in reality, if they would become citizens then, they are equally citizens now—else it would follow that the State governments had an arbitrary power of making citizens of the United States; or—what is equally absurd—it would follow that disabilities, arbitrarily imposed by the State governments, upon native inhabitants of the country, were, of themselves, sufficient to deprive such inhabitants of the citizenship, which would otherwise have been conferred upon them by the constitution of the United States. To suppose that the State governments are thus able, arbitrarily, to keep in abeyance, or arbitrarily to withhold from any of the inhabitants of the country, any of the benefits or rights which the national constitution intended to confer upon them, would be to suppose that the State constitutions were paramount to the national one. The conclusion, therefore, is inevitable, that the State governments have no power to withhold the rights of citizenship from any who are otherwise competent to become citizens. And as all the native born inhabitants of the country are at least competent to become citizens of the United States, (if they are not already such,) the State governments have no power, by slave laws or any other, to withhold the rights of citizenship from them.

But however clear it may be, that the constitution, in reality, made citizens of all “the people of the United States,” yet it is not necessary to maintain that point, in order to prove that the constitution gave no guaranty or sanction to slavery—for if it had not already given citizenship to all, it nevertheless gave to the government of the United States unlimited power of offering citizenship to all. The power given to the government of passing naturalization laws, is entirely unrestricted, except that the laws must be uniform throughout the country. And the government have undoubted power to offer naturalization and citizenship to every person in the country, whether foreigner or native, who is not already a citizen. To suppose that we have in the country three millions of native born inhabitants, not citizens, and whom the national government has no power to make citizens, when its power of naturalization is entirely unrestricted, is a palpable contradiction.

But further. The constitution of the United States must be made consistent with itself throughout; and if any of its parts are irreconcilable with each other, those parts that are inconsistent with liberty, justice and right, must be thrown out for inconsistency. Besides the provisions already mentioned, there are numerous others, in the constitution of the United States, that are entirely and irreconcilably inconsistent with the idea that there either was, or could be, any constitutional slavery in this country.

Among these provisions are the following:

First. Congress have power to lay a capitation or poll tax upon the people of the country. Upon whom shall this tax be levied? and who must be held responsible for its payment? Suppose a poll tax were laid upon a man, whom the State laws should pretend to call a slave. Are the United States under the necessity or investigating, or taking any notice of the fact of slavery, either for the purpose of excusing the man himself from the tax, or of throwing it upon the person claiming to be his owner? Must the government of the United States find a man’s pretended owner, or only the man himself, before they can tax him? Clearly the United States are not bound to tax any one but the individual himself, or to hold any other person responsible for the tax. Any other principle would enable the State governments to defeat any tax of this kind levied by the United States. Yet a man’s liability to be held personally responsible for the payment of a tax, levied upon himself by the government of the United States, is inconsistent with the idea that the government is bound to recognize him as not having the ownership of his own person.

Second. “The Congress shall have power to regulate commerce with foreign nations, and among the several States, and with the Indian tribes.”

This power is held, by the Supreme Court of the United States, to be an exclusive one in the general government; and it obviously must be so, to be effectual—for if the States could also interfere to regulate it, the States could at pleasure defeat the regulations of Congress.

Congress, then, having the exclusive power of regulating this commerce, they only (if anybody) can say who may, and who may not, carry it on; and probably even they have no power to discriminate arbitrarily between individuals. But, in no event, have the State governments any right to say who may, or who may not, carry on “commerce with foreign nations,” or “among the several States,” or “with the Indian tribes.” Every individual—naturally competent to make contracts—whom the State laws declare to be a slave, probably has, and certainly may have, under the regulations of Congress, as perfect a right to carry on “commerce with foreign nations, and among the several States, and with the Indian tribes,” as any other citizen of the United States can have—“anything in the constitution or laws of any State to the contrary notwithstanding.” Yet this right of carrying on commerce is a right entirely inconsistent with the idea of a man’s being a slave.

Again. It is a principle of law that the right of traffic is a natural right, and that all commerce (that is intrinsically innocent) is therefore lawful, except what is prohibited by positive legislation. Traffic with the slaves, either by people of foreign nations or by people belonging to other States than the slaves, has never (so far as I know) been prohibited by Congress, which is the only government (if any) that has power to prohibit it. Traffic with the slaves is therefore as lawful at this moment, under the constitution of the United States, as is traffic with their masters; and this fact is entirely inconsistent with the idea that their bondage is constitutional.

Third. “The Congress shall have power to establish post offices and post roads.”

Who, but Congress, have any right to say who may send, or receive letters by the United States posts? Certainly no one. They have undoubted authority to permit any one to send and receive letters by their posts—“anything in the constitutions or laws of the States to the contrary notwithstanding.” Yet the right to send and receive letters by post, is a right inconsistent with the idea of a man’s being a slave.

Fourth. “The Congress shall have power to promote the progress of science and useful arts, by securing for limited times to authors and inventors the exclusive right to their respective writings and discoveries.”

Suppose a man, whom a State may pretend to call a slave, should make an invention or discovery—Congress have undoubted power to secure to such individual himself, by patent, the “exclusive”—(mark the word)—the “exclusive right” to his invention or discovery. But does not this “exclusive right” in the inventor himself, exclude the right of any man, who, under a State law, may claim to be the owner of the inventor? Certainly it does. Yet the slave code says that whatever is a slave’s is his owner’s. This power, then, on the part of Congress, to secure to an individual the exclusive right to his inventions and discoveries, is a power inconsistent with the idea that that individual himself, and all he may possess, are the property of another.

Fifth. “The Congress shall have power to declare war, grant letters of marque and reprisal, and make rules concerning captures on land and water;” also “to raise and support armies;” and “to provide and maintain a navy.”

Have not Congress authority, under these powers, to enlist soldiers and sailors, by contract with themselves, and to pay them their wages, grant them pensions, and secure their wages and pensions to their own use, without asking the permission either of the State governments, or of any individuals whom the State governments may see fit to recognize as the owners of such soldiers and sailors? Certainly they have, in defiance of all State laws and constitutions whatsoever; and they have already asserted that principle by enacting that pensions, paid by the United States to their soldiers, shall not be liable to be taken for debt, under the laws of the States. Have they not authority also to grant letters of marque and reprisal, and to secure the prizes, to a ship’s crew of blacks, as well as of whites? To those whom the State governments call slaves, as well as to those whom the State governments call free? Have not Congress authority to make contracts, for the defence of the nation, with any and all the inhabitants of the nation, who may be willing to perform the service? Or are they obliged first to ask and obtain the consent of those private individuals who may pretend to own the inhabitants of this nation? Undoubtedly Congress have the power to contract with whom they please, and to secure wages and pensions to such individuals, in contempt of all State authority. Yet this power is inconsistent with the idea that the constitution recognizes or sanctions the legality of slavery.

Sixth. “The Congress shall have power to provide for the organizing, arming and disciplining the militia, and for governing such part of them as may be employed in the service of the United States, reserving to the States respectively the appointment of the officers, and the authority of training the militia, according to the discipline prescribed by Congress.” Also “to provide for calling forth the militia to execute the laws of the Union, suppress insurrections, and repel invasions.”

Have not Congress, under these powers, as undoubted authority to enroll in the militia, and “arm” those whom the States call slaves, and authorize them always to keep their arms by them, even when not on duty, (that they may at all times be ready to be “called forth” “to execute the laws of the Union, suppress insurrections, and repel invasions,”) as they have thus to enroll and arm those whom the States call free? Can the State governments determine who may, and who may not, compose the militia of the “United States?”

Look, too, at this power, in connection with the second amendment to the constitution; which is in these words:

“A well regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.”

These provisions obviously recognize the natural right of all men “to keep and bear arms” for their personal defence; and prohibit both Congress and the State governments from infringing the right of “the people”—that is, of any of the people—to do so; and more especially of any whom Congress have power to include in their militia. This right of a man “to keep and bear arms,” is a right palpably inconsistent with the idea of his being a slave. Yet the right is secured as effectually to those whom the States presume to call slaves, as to any whom the States condescend to acknowledge free.

Under this provision any man has a right either to give or sell arms to those persons whom the States call slaves; and there is no constitutional power, in either the national or State governments, that can punish him for so doing; or that can take those arms from the slaves; or that can make it criminal for the slaves to use them, if, from the inefficiency of the laws, it should become necessary for them to do so, in defence of their own lives or liberties; for this constitutional right to keep arms implies the constitutional right to use them, if need be, for the defence of one’s liberty or life.

Seventh. The constitution of the United States declares that “no State shall pass any law impairing the obligation of contracts.”

“The obligation of contracts,” here spoken of, is, of necessity, the natural obligation; for that is the only real or true obligation that any contracts can have. It is also the only obligation, which courts recognize in any case, except where legislatures arbitrarily interfere to impair it. But the prohibition of the constitution is upon the States passing any law whatever that shall impair the natural obligation of men’s contracts. Yet, if slave laws were constitutional, they would effectually impair the obligation of all contracts entered into by those who are made slaves; for the slave laws must necessarily hold that all a slave’s contracts are void.

This prohibition upon the States to pass any law impairing the natural obligation of men’s contracts, implies that all men have a constitutional right to enter into all contracts that have a natural obligation. It therefore secures the constitutional right of all men to enter into such contracts, and to have them respected by the State governments. Yet this constitutional right of all men to enter into all contracts that have a natural obligation, and to have those contracts recognized by law as valid, is a right plainly inconsistent with the idea that men can constitutionally be made slaves.

This provision, therefore, absolutely prohibits the passage of slave laws, because laws that make men slaves must necessarily impair the obligation of all their contracts.

Eighth. Persons, whom some of the State governments recognize as slaves, are made eligible, by the constitution of the United States, to the office of President of the United States. The constitutional provision on this subject is this:

“No person, except a natural born citizen, or a citizen of the United States at the time of the adoption of this constitution, shall be eligible to the office of President; neither shall any person be eligible to that office, who shall not have attained the age of thirty-five years, and been fourteen years a resident of the United States.”

According to this provision, all “persons,”[*] who have resided within the United States fourteen years, have attained the age of thirty-five years, and are either natural born citizens, or were citizens of the United States at the time of the adoption of the constitution, are eligible to the office of President. No other qualifications than these being required by the constitution, no others can be legally demanded. The only question, then, that can arise, is as to the word “citizen.” Who are the persons that come within this definition, as here used? The clause itself divides them into two classes, to wit, the “natural born,” and those who were “citizens of the United States at the time of the adoption of the constitution.” In regard to this latter class, it has before been shown, from the preamble to the constitution, that all who were “people of the United States” (that is, permanent inhabitants) at the time the constitution was adopted, were made citizens by it. And this clause, describing those eligible to the office of President, implies the same thing. This is evident; for it speaks of those who were “citizens of the United States at the time of the adoption of the constitution.” Now there clearly could have been no “citizens of the United States, at the time of the adoption of the constitution,” unless they were made so by the constitution itself; for there were no “citizens of the United States” before the adoption of the constitution. The confederation had no citizens. It was a mere league between the State governments. The separate States belonging to the confederacy had each their own citizens respectively. But the confederation itself, as such, had no citizens. There were, therefore, no “citizens of the United States,” (but only citizens of the respective States,) before the adoption of the constitution. Yet this clause asserts that immediately on the adoption, or “at the time of the adoption of this constitution,” there were “citizens of the United States.” Those, then, who were “citizens of the United States at the time of the adoption of the constitution,” were necessarily those, and only those, who had been made so by the adoption of the constitution; because they could have become citizens at that precise “time” in no other way. If, then, any persons were made citizens by the adoption of the constitution, who were the individuals that were thus made citizens? They were “the people of the United States,” of course—as the preamble to the constitution virtually asserts. And if “the people of the United States” were made citizens by the adoption of the constitution, then all “the people of the United States” were necessarily made citizens by it—for no discrimination is made by the constitution between different individuals. “people of the United States”—and there is therefore no means of determining who were made citizens by the adoption of the constitution, unless all “the people of the United States” were so made. Any “person,” then, who was one of “the people of the United States” “at the time of the adoption of this constitution,” and who is thirty-five years old, and has resided fourteen years within the United States, is eligible to the office of President of the United States. And if every such person be eligible, under the constitution, to the office of President of the United States, the constitution certainly does not recognize them as slaves.

The other class of citizens, mentioned as being eligible to the office of President, consists of the “natural born citizens.” Here is an implied assertion that natural birth in the country gives the right of citizenship. And if it gives it to one, it necessarily gives it to all—for no discrimination is made; and if all persons born in the country are not entitled to citizenship, the constitution has given us no test by which to determine who of them are entitled to it.

Every person, then, born in the country, and that shall have attained the age of thirty-five years, and been fourteen years a resident within the United States, is eligible to the office of President. And if eligible to that office, the constitution certainly does not recognize him as a slave.

Persons, who are “citizens” of the United States, according to the foregoing definitions, are also eligible to the offices of representative and senator of the United States; and therefore cannot be slaves.

Ninth. The constitution declares that “the trial of all crimes, except in cases of impeachment, shall be by jury.” Also that “Treason against the United States shall consist only in levying war against them, or in adhering to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort.”

It is obvious that slaves, if we have any, might “levy war against the United States,” and might also “adhere to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort.” It may, however, be doubted whether they could commit the crime of treason—for treason implies a breach of fidelity, trust or allegiance, where fidelity, trust or allegiance is due. And it is very clear that slaves could owe allegiance, trust or fidelity, neither to the United States, nor to the State governments; for allegiance is due to a government only from those who are protected by it. Slaves could owe to our governments nothing but resistance and destruction. If, therefore, they were to levy war against the United States, they might not perhaps be liable to the technical charge of treason; although there would, in reality, be as much treason in their act, as there would of any other crime—for there would, in truth, be neither legal nor moral crime of any kind in it. Still, the government would be compelled, in order to protect itself against them, to charge them with some crime or other—treason, murder, or something else. And this charge, whatever it might be, would have to be tried by a jury. And what (in criminal cases) is the “trial by jury?” It is a trial, both of the law and the fact, by the “peers” or equals, of the person tried. Who are the “peers” of a slave? None, evidently, but slaves. If, then, the constitution recognizes any such class of persons, in this country, as slaves, it would follow that for any crime committed by them against the United States, they must be tried, both on the law and the facts, by a jury of slaves. The result of such trials we can readily imagine.

Does this look as if the constitution guarantied, or even recognized the legality of slavery?

Tenth. The constitution declares that “The privilege of the writ of habeas corpus shall not be suspended, unless when, in cases of rebellion or invasion, the public safety may require it.

The privilege of this writ, wherever it is allowed, is of itself sufficient to make slavery impossible and illegal. The object and prerogative of this writ are to secure to all persons their natural right to personal liberty, against all restraint except from the government; and even against restraints by the government itself, unless they are imposed in conformity with established general laws, and upon the charge of some legal offence or liability. It accordingly liberates all who are held in custody against their will, (whether by individuals or the government,) unless they are held on some formal writ or process, authorized by law, issued by the government, according to established principles, and charging the person held by it with some legal offence or liability. The principle of the writ seems to be, that no one shall be restrained of his natural liberty, unless these three things conspire; 1st, that the restraint be imposed by special command of the government; 2d, that there be a general law authorizing restraints for specific causes; and, 3d, that the government, previously to issuing process for restraining any particular individual, shall itself, by its proper authorities, take express cognizance of, and inquire cautiously into the facts of each case, and ascertain, by reasonable evidence, that the individual has brought himself within the liabilities of the general law. All these things the writ of habeas corpus secures to be done, before it will suffer a man to be restrained of his liberty; for the writ is a mandate to the person holding another in custody, commanding him to bring his prisoner before the court, and show the authority by which he holds him. Unless he then exhibit a legal precept, warrant or writ, issued by, and bearing the seal of the government, specifying a legal ground for restraining the prisoner, and authorizing or requiring him to hold him in custody, he will be ordered to let him go free. Hence all keepers of prisons, in order to hold their prisoners against the authority of this writ, are required, in the case of each prisoner, to have a written precept or order, bearing the seal of the government, and issued by the proper authority, particularly describing the prisoner by name or otherwise, and setting forth the legal grounds of his imprisonment, and requiring the keeper of the prison to hold him in his custody.

Now the master does not hold his slave in custody by virtue of any formal or legal writ or process, either authorized by law, or issued by the government, or that charges the slave with any legal offence or liability. A slave is incapable of incurring any legal liability, or obligation to his master. And the government could, with no more consistency, grant a writ or process to the master, to enable him to hold his slave, than it could to enable him to hold his horse. It simply recognizes his right of property in his slave, and then leaves him at liberty to hold him by brute force, if he can, as he holds his ox, or his horse—and not otherwise. If the slave escape, or refuse to labor, the slave code no more authorizes the government to issue legal process against the slave, to authorize the master to catch him, or compel him to labor, than it does against a horse for the same purpose.—The slave is held simply as property, by individual force, without legal process. But the writ of habeas corpus acknowledges no such principle as the right of property in man. If it did, it would be perfectly impotent in all cases whatsoever; because it is a principle of law, in regard to property, that simple possession is prima facie evidence of ownership; and therefore any man, who was holding another in custody, could defeat the writ by pleading that he owned his prisoner, and by giving, as proof of ownership, the simple fact that he was in possession of him. If, therefore, the writ of habeas corpus did not, of itself, involve a denial of the right of property in man, the fact stated in it, that one man was holding another in custody, would be prima facie evidence that he owned him, and had a right to hold him; and the writ would therefore carry an absurdity on its face.

The writ of habeas corpus, then, necessarily denies the right of property in man. And the constitution, by declaring, without any discrimination of persons, that “the privilege of this writ shall not be suspended,”—that is, shall not be denied to any human being—has declared that, under the constitution, there can be no right of property in man.

This writ was unquestionably intended as a great constitutional guaranty of personal liberty. But unless it denies the right of property in man, it in reality affords no protection to any of us against being made slaves. If it does deny the right of property in man, the slave is entitled to the privilege of the writ; for he is held in custody by his master, simply on the ground of property.

Mr. Christian, one of Blackstone’s editors, says that it is this writ that makes slavery impossible in England. It was on this writ, that Somerset was liberated. The writ, in fact, asserts, as a great constitutional principle, the natural right of personal liberty. And the privilege of the writ is not confined to citizens, but extends to all human beings.[*] And it is probably the only absolute guaranty, that our national constitution gives to foreigners and aliens, that they shall not, on their arrival here, be enslaved by those of our State governments that exhibit such propensities for enslaving their fellow-men. For this purpose, it is a perfect guaranty to people who come here from any part of the world. And if it be such a guaranty to foreigners and aliens, is it no guaranty to those born under the constitution? Especially when the constitution makes no discrimination of persons?

Eleventh. “The United States shall guaranty to every State in this Union a republican form of government, and shall protect each of them against invasion; and, on application of the legislature, or of the executive, (when the legislature cannot be convened,) against domestic violence.”

Mark the strength and explicitness of the first clause of this section, to wit, “The United States shall guaranty to every State in this Union a republican form of government.” Mark also especially that this guaranty is one of liberty, and not of slavery.

We have all of us heretofore been compelled to hear, from individuals of slaveholding principles, many arrogant and bombastic assertions, touching the constitutional “guaranties” given to slavery; and persons, who are in the habit of taking their constitutional law from other men’s mouths, instead of looking at the constitution for themselves, have probably been led to imagine that the constitution had really given such guaranties in some explicit and tangible form. We have, nevertheless, seen that all those pretended guaranties are at most nothing but certain vague hints, insinuations, ciphers and innuendoes, that are imagined to be covered up under language which legally means nothing of the kind. But, in the clause now cited, we do have an explicit and peremptory “guaranty,” depending upon no implications, inferences or conjectures, and couched in no uncertain or ambiguous terms. And what is this guaranty? Is it a guaranty of slavery? No. It is a guaranty of something flatly incompatible with slavery: a guaranty of “a republican form of government to every State in this Union.”

And what is “a republican form of government?” It is where the government is a commonwealth—the property of the public, of the mass of the people, or of the entire people. It is where the government is made up of, and controlled by the combined will and power of the public, or mass of the people—and where, of natural consequence, it will have, for its object, the protection of the rights of all. It is indispensable to a republican form of government, that the public, the mass of the people, if not the entire people, participate in the grant of powers to the government, and in the protection afforded by the government. It is impossible, therefore, that a government, under which any considerable number of the people (if indeed any number of the people, are disfranchised and enslaved, can be a republic. A slave government is an oligarchy; and one too of the most arbitrary and criminal character.

Strange that men, who have eyes capable of discovering in the constitution so many covert, implied and insinuated guaranties of crime and slavery, should be blind to the legal import of so open, explicit and peremptory a guaranty of freedom, equality and right.

Even if there had really been, in the constitution, two such contradictory guaranties, as one of liberty or republicanism in every State of the Union, and another of slavery in every State where one portion of the people might succeed in enslaving the rest, one of these guaranties must have given way to the other—for, being plainly inconsistent with each other, they could not have stood together. And it might safely have been left either to legal or to moral rules to determine which of the two should prevail—whether a provision to perpetuate slavery should triumph over a guaranty of freedom.

But it is constantly asserted, in substance, that there is “no propriety” in the general government’s interfering in the local governments of the States. Those who make this assertion appear to regard a State as a single individual, capable of managing his own affairs, and of course unwilling to tolerate the intermeddling of others. But a State is not an individual. It is made up of large numbers of individuals, each and all of whom, amid the intestine mutations and strifes to which States are subject, are liable, at some time or other, to be trampled upon by the strongest party, and may therefore reasonably choose to secure, in advance, some external protection against such emergencies, by making reciprocal contracts with other people similarly exposed in the neighboring States. Such contracts for mutual succor and protection, are perfectly fit and proper for any people who are so situated as to be able to contribute to each other’s security. They are as fit and proper as any other political contracts whatever; and are founded on precisely the same principle of combination for mutual defence—for what are any of our political contracts and forms of government, but contracts between man and man for mutual protection against those who may conspire to injure either or all of them? But these contracts, fit and proper between all men, are peculiarly appropriate to those, who, while they are members of various local and subordinate associations, are, at the same time, united for specific purposes under one general government. Such a mutual contract, between the people of all the States, is contained in this clause of the constitution. And it gives to them all an additional guaranty for their liberties.

Those who object to this guaranty, however, choose to overlook all these considerations, and then appear to imagine that their notions of “propriety” on this point, can effectually expunge the guaranty itself from the constitution. In indulging this fancy, however, they undoubtedly overrate the legal, and perhaps also the moral effect of such superlative fastidiousness; for even if there were “no propriety” in the interference of the general government to maintain a republican form of government in the States, still, the unequivocal pledge to that effect, given in the constitution, would nevertheless remain an irresistible rebutter to the allegation that the constitution intended to guaranty its opposite, slavery, an oligarchy, or a despotism. It would, therefore, entirely forbid all those inferences and implications, drawn by slaveholders, from those other phrases, which they quote as guaranties of slavery.[*]

But the “propriety,” and not only the propriety, but the necessity of this guaranty, may be maintained on still other grounds.

One of these grounds is, that it would be impossible, consistently with the other provisions of the constitution, that the general government itself could be republican, unless the State governments were republican also. For example. The constitution provides, in regard to the choice of congressional representatives, that “the electors in each State shall have the qualifications requisite for electors of the most numerous branch of the State legislature.” It was indispensable to the internal quiet of each State, that the same body of electors, who should participate in the suffrage of the State governments, should participate also in the suffrage of the national one—and vice versa, that those who should participate in the national suffrage, should also participate in that of the State. If the general and State constitutions had each a different body of electors within each State, it would obviously give rise at once to implacable and irreconcilable feuds, that would result in the overthrow of one or the other of the governments within the State. Harmony or inveterate conflict was the only alternative. As conflict would necessarily result in the destruction of one of the governments, harmony was the only mode by which both could be preserved. And this harmony could be secured only by giving to the same body of electors, suffrage in both the governments.

If, then, it was indispensable to the existence and authority of both governments, within the territory of each State, that the same body, and only the same body of electors, that were represented in one of the governments, should be represented in the other, it was clearly indispensable, in order that the national one should be republican, that the State governments should be republican also. Hence the interest which the nation at large have in the republicanism of each of the State governments.

It being necessary that the suffrage under the national government, within each State, should be the same as for the State government, it is apparent that unless the several State governments were all formed on one general plan, or unless the electors of all the States were united in the acknowledgment of some general controlling principle, applicable to both governments, it would be impossible that they could unite in the maintenance of a general government that should act in harmony with the State governments; because the same body of electors, that should support a despotic government in the State, could not consistently or cordially unite, or even unite at all, in the support of a republican government for the nation. If one portion of the State governments should be republican, like Vermont, where suffrage is open to all—and another portion should be oligarchies, like South Carolina, and the other slave States—another portion limited monarchies, like England—another portion ecclesiastical, like that of the Pope of Rome, or that of the ancient Jews—and another portion absolute despotisms, like that of Nicholas, in Russia, or that of Francia, in Paraguay,—and the same body, and only the same body, of electors, that sustained each of these governments at home, should be represented in the national government, each State would send into the national legislature the representatives of its own peculiar system of government; and the national legislature, instead of being composed of the representatives of any one theory, or principle of government, would be made up of the representatives of all the various theories of government that prevailed in the different States—from the extreme of democracy to the extreme of despotism. And each of these various representatives would be obliged to carry his local principles into the national legislature, else he could not retain the confidence of his peculiar constituents. The consequence would be, that the national legislature would present the spectacle of a perfect Babel of discordant tongues, elements, passions, interests and purposes, instead of an assembly, united for the accomplishment of any agreed or distinct object.

Without some distinct and agreed object as a bond of union, it would obviously be impracticable for any general union of the whole people to subsist; and that bond of union, whatever it be, must also harmonize with the principles of each of the State governments, else there would be a collision between the general and state governments.

Now the great bond of union, agreed upon in the general government, was “the rights of man”—expressed in the national constitution by the terms “liberty and justice.” What other bond could have been agreed upon? On what other principle of government could they all have united? Could they have united to sustain the divine right of kings? The feudal privileges of nobles? Or the supremacy of the Christian, Mahometan, or any other church? No. They all denied the divine right of kings, and the feudal rights of nobles; and they were of all creeds in religion. But they were agreed that all men had certain natural, inherent, essential and inalienable rights, among which were life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness; and that the preservation of these rights was the legitimate purpose of governments among men. They had avowed this principle before the world, had fought for it, and successfully defended it, against the mightiest power in the world. They had filled the world with its glory; and it, in turn, had filled the world with theirs. It had also gathered, and was then gathering, choice spirits, and large numbers of the oppressed from other nations unto them. And this principle—in which were involved the safety, interests and rights of each and every one of “the people,” who were to unite for the formation of the government—now furnished a bond of union, that was at once sufficient, legitimate, consistent, honorable, of universal application, and having more general power over the hearts and heads of all of them, than any other that could be found to hold them together. It comported with their theory of the true objects of government. This principle, therefore, they adopted as the corner-stone of their national government; and, as a matter of necessity, all other things, on which this new government was in any degree to depend, or which was to depend in any degree upon this government, were then made to conform to this principle. Hence the propriety of the power given to the general government, of “guarantying to every State in the Union a republican form of government.” Had not this power been given to the general government, the majorities in each State might have converted the State governments into oligarchies, aristocracies, monarchies or despotisms, that should not only have trampled upon the minorities, and defeated their enjoyment of the national constitution, but also introduced such factions and feuds into the national government as would have distracted its councils, and prostrated its power.

But there were also motives of a pecuniary and social, as well as political nature, that made it proper that the nation should guaranty to the States a republican form of government.

Commerce was to be established between the people of the different States. The commerce of a free people is many times more valuable than that of slaves. Freemen produce and consume vastly more than slaves. They have therefore more to buy and more to sell. Hence the free States have a direct pecuniary interest in the civil freedom of all the other States. Commerce between free and slave states is not reciprocal or equal. Who can measure the increase that would have been made to the industry and prosperity of the free States, if all the slaves in the country had been freemen, with all the wants and energies of freemen? And their masters had had all the thrift, industry and enterprise of men who depend upon their own labor, instead of the labor of slaves, for their prosperity? Great Britain thought it policy to carry on a seven years’ war against us principally to secure to herself the control and benefits of the commerce of three millions of people and their posterity. But we now have nearly or quite the same number of slaves within our borders, and yet we think that commerce with them and their posterity is a matter with which we have no concern; that there is “no propriety” in that provision of the national constitution, which requires that the general government—which we have invested with the exclusive control of all commerce among the several States—should secure to these three millions the right of traffic with their fellow-men, and to their fellow-men the right of traffic with them, against the impertinent usurpations and tyranny of subordinate governments, that have no constitutional right to interfere in the matter.

Again. The slave States, in proportion to their population, contribute nothing like an equal or equitable share to the aggregate of national wealth. It would probably be within the truth to say that, in proportion to numbers, the people of the free States have contributed ten times as much to the national wealth as the people of the slave States. Even for such wealth as the culture of their great staple, cotton, has added to the nation, the south are indebted principally, if not entirely, to the inventive genius of a single northern man.[*] The agriculture of the slave States is carried on with rude and clumsy implements; by listless, spiritless and thriftless laborers; and in a manner speedily to wear out the natural fertility of the soil, which fertility slave cultivation seldom or never replaces. The mechanic arts are comparatively dead among them. Invention is utterly dormant. It is doubtful whether either a slave or a slave holder has ever invented a single important article of labor-saving machinery since the foundation of the government. And they have hardly had the skill or enterprise to apply any of those invented by others. Who can estimate the loss of wealth to the nation from these causes alone? Yet we of the free States give to the south a share in the incalculable wealth produced by our inventions and labor-saving machinery, our steam engines, and cotton gins, and manufacturing machinery of all sorts, and yet say at the same time that we have no interest, and that there is “no propriety” in the constitutional guaranty of that personal freedom to the people of the south, which would enable them to return us some equivalent in kind.

For the want, too, of an enforcement of this guaranty of a republican form of government to each of the States, the population of the country, by the immigration of foreigners, has no doubt been greatly hindered. Multitudes almost innumerable, who would have come here, either from a love of liberty, or to better their conditions, and given the country the benefit of their talents, industry and wealth, have no doubt been dissuaded or deterred by the hideous tyranny that rides triumphant in one half of the nation, and extends its pestiferous and detested influence over the other half.

Socially, also, we have an interest in the freedom of all the States. We have an interest in free personal intercourse with all the people living under a common government with ourselves. We wish to be free to discuss, with any and all of them, all the principles of liberty and all the interests of humanity. We wish, when we meet a fellow-man, to be at liberty to speak freely with him of his and our condition; to be at liberty to do him a service; to advise with him as to the means of improving his condition; and, if need be, to ask a kindness at his hands. But all these things are incompatible with slavery. Is this such a union as we bargained for? Was it “nominated in the bond,” that we should be cut off from these the common rights of human nature? If so, point to the line and letter, where it is so written. Neither of them are to be found. But the contrary is expressly guarantied against the power of both the governments, state and national; for the national government is prohibited from passing any law abridging the freedom of speech and the press, and the state governments are prohibited from maintaining any other than a republican form of government, which of course implies the same freedom.

The nation at large have still another interest in the republicanism of each of the States; an interest, too, that is indicated in the same section in which this republicanism is guarantied. This interest results from the fact that the nation are pledged to “proect” each of the States “against domestic violence.” Was there no account taken—in reference either to the cost or the principle of this undertaking—as to what might be the character of the State governments, which we are thus pledged to defend against the risings of the people? Did we covenant, in this clause, to wage war against the rights of man? Did we pledge ourselves that those, however few, who might ever succeed in getting the government of a State into their hands, should thenceforth be recognized as the legitimate power of the State, and be entitled to the whole force of the general government to aid them in subjecting the remainder of the people to the degradation and injustice of slavery? Or did the nation undertake only to guaranty the preservation of “a republican form of government” against the violence of those who might prove its enemies? The reason of the thing, and the connexion, in which the two provisions stand in the constitution, give the answer.

We have yet another interest still, and that no trivial one, in the republicanism of the State governments; an interest indicated, too, like the one last mentioned, in the very section in which this republicanism is assured. It relates to the defence against invasion. The general government is pledged to defend each of the States against invasion. Is it a thing of no moment, whether we have given such a pledge to free or to slave States? Is there no difference in the cost and hazard of defending one or the other? Is it of no consequence to the expense of life and money, involved in this undertaking, whether the people of the State invaded shall be united, as freemen naturally will be, as one man against the enemy? Or whether, as in slave States, half of them shall be burning to join the enemy, with the purpose of satisfying with blood the long account of wrong that shall have accrued against their oppressors? Did Massachusetts—who during the war of the revolution furnished more men for the common defence, than all the six southern States together—did she, immediately on the close of that war, pledge herself, as the slave holders would have it, that she would lavish her life in like manner again, for the defence of those whose wickedness and tyranny in peace should necessarily multiply their enemies and make them defenceless in war? If so, on what principle, or for what equivalent, did she do it? Did she not rather take care that the guaranty for a republican government should be inserted in the same paragraph with that for protection against invasion, in order that both the principle and the extent of the liability she incurred, might distinctly appear.

The nation at large, then, as a political community under the constitution, have both interests and rights, and both of the most vital character, in the republicanism of each of the State governments. The guaranty given by the national constitution, securing such a government to each of the States, is therefore neither officious nor impertinent. On the contrary, this guaranty was a sine qua non to any rational contract of union; and the enforcement of it is equally indispensable, if not to the continuance of the union at all, certainly to its continuance on any terms that are either safe, honorable or equitable for the north.

This guaranty, then, is not idle verbiage. It is full of meaning. And that meaning is not only fatal to slavery itself, but it is fatal also to all those pretences, constructions, surmises and implications, by which it is claimed that the national constitution sanctions, legalizes, or even tolerates slavery.

FIRST RULE.

The first rule, in the interpretation of the constitution, as of all other laws and contracts, is, “that the intention of the instrument must prevail.”

The reason of this rule is apparent; for unless the intention of the instrument prevail, wherefore was the instrument formed? or established as law? If any other intention is to prevail over the instrument, the instrument is not the law, but a mere nullity.

The intentions of a statute or constitution are always either declared, or presumed.

The declared intentions of a statute or constitution are the intentions that are clearly expressed in terms in the statute or constitution itself.

Where the intentions of statutes and constitutions are not clearly expressed in the instruments themselves, the law always presumes them. And it always presumes the most just and beneficial intentions, which the words of the instruments, taken as a whole, can fairly be made to express, or imply.

Statutes and constitutions, in which no intentions were declared, and of which no reasonable intentions could be presumed, would be of no legal validity. No intentions that might be attributed to them by mere force of conjecture, and exterior history, could be legally ascribed to them, or enforced as law.

The intentions, which individuals, in discussions, conversations, and newspapers, may attribute to statutes and constitutions, are no part of the instruments themselves. And they are not of the slightest importance as evidence of their intentions, especially if they are in opposition, either to the declared, or the presumed, intentions of the instruments. If the intentions of statutes and constitutions were to be gathered from the talk of the street, there would be no use in writing them in terms. The talk of the street, and not the written instruments, would constitute the laws. And the same instrument would be as various and contradictory in its meanings, as the various conjectures, or assertions, that might be heard from the mouths of individuals; for one man’s conjecture or assertion would be of as much legal value as another’s; and effect would therefore have to be given to all, if to any.

Those who argue for slavery, hold that “the intentions of the people” must prevail, instead of “the intentions of the instrument;” thus falsely assuming that there is a legal distinction between the intentions of the instrument and the intentions of the people. Whereas the only object of the instrument is to express the intentions of the people. That is the only motive that can be attributed to the people, for its adoption. The people established the constitution solely to give written and certain evidence of their intentions. Having their written instrument, we have their own testimony, their own declaration, of what their intentions are. The intentions of the instrument, then, and the intentions of the people, are identical. And it is legally a matter of indifference which form of expression is used; for both legally express the same idea.

But the same class of persons, who assume a distinction between the intentions of the instrument and the intentions of the people, labor to prove, by evidence extraneous to the instrument, that the intentions of the people were different from those the instrument expresses; and then they infer that the instrument must be warped and twisted, and made to correspond to these unexpressed intentions of the people.

The answer to all this chicanery is this. The people, assuming that they have the right to establish their will as law, have, in theory, agreed upon an instrument to express their will, or their intentions. They have thus said that the intentions expressed in that instrument are their intentions. Also that their intentions, as expressed in the instrument, shall be the supreme law of the land.

“The people,” by thus agreeing that the intentions, expressed by their joint instrument, shall be the supreme law of the land, have virtually and legally contracted with each other, that, for the sake of having these, their written intentions, carried into effect, they will severally forego all other intentions, of every name and nature whatsoever, that conflict with the written ones, in which they are all agreed.

Now this written instrument, which is, in theory, the voluntary contract of each and every individual with each and every other, is the highest legal evidence of their intentions. It is the specific evidence that is required of all the parties to it. It is the only evidence that is required, or accepted, of any. It is equally valid and sufficient, in favor of all, and against all. It is the only evidence that is common to all. The intentions it expresses must, therefore, stand as the intentions of all, and be carried into effect as law, in preference to any contrary intentions, that may have been separately, individually, and informally expressed by any one or all the parties on other occasions; else the contract is broken.

As long as the parties acknowledge the instrument as being their contract, they are each and all estopped by it from saying that they have any intentions adverse to it. Its intentions and their intentions are identical, else the parties individually contradict themselves. To acknowledge the contract, and yet disavow its intentions, is perfect self-contradiction.

If the parties wish to repudiate the intentions of the instrument, they must repudiate or abolish the instrument itself. If they wish to change the intentions of the instrument, in any one or more particulars, they must change its language in those particulars, so as to make it express the intentions they desire. But no change can be wrought by exterior evidence; because the written instrument, to which, and to which only, all have, in theory, agreed, must always be the highest evidence that the courts can have of the intentions of the whole people.

If, therefore, the fact were historically well authenticated, that every man in the nation had publicly asserted, within one hour after the adoption of the constitution, (that is, within one hour after he had, in theory, agreed to it,) that he did not agree to it intending that any or all of the principles expressed by the instrument should be established as law, all those assertions would not be of the least legal consequence in the world; and for the very sufficient reason, that what they have said in the instrument is the law; and what they have said out of it is no part of it, and has no legal bearing upon it.

Such assertions, if admitted to be true, would only prove that the parties had lied when they agreed to the instrument; and if they lied then they may be lying now. If we cannot believe their first and formal assertion of their intentions, we cannot believe their second and informal one.

The parties cannot claim that they did not understand the language of the instrument; for if they did not understand the language then, when they agreed to it, how can we know that they understand it now, when they dissent from it? Or how can we know that they so much as understand the very language they are now using in making their denial? or in expressing their contrary intentions?

They cannot claim that they did not understand the rules, by which their language, used in the instrument, would be interpreted; for if they did not understand them then, how can we know that they understand them now? Or how do we know that they understand the rules, by which their present declarations of their intentions will be interpreted?

The consequence is, that every man must be presumed to understand a contract to which he agrees, whether he actually does understand it or not. He must be presumed to understand the meaning of its words; the rules by which its words will be interpreted; and the intentions, which its words, thus interpreted, express. Otherwise men can never make contracts that will be binding upon them; for a man cannot bind himself by a contract which he is not presumed to understand; and it can seldom, or never, be proved whether a man actually does understand his contract, or not. If, therefore, at any time, through ignorance, carelessness, mental reservations, or fraudulent designs, men agree to instruments that express intentions different from their own, they must abide the consequences. The instrument must stand, as expressing their intentions, and their adverse intentions must fail of effect.

Every one, therefore, when he agrees to a contract, judges for himself, and takes his own risk, whether he understands the instrument to which he gives his assent. It is plainly impossible to have constitutions established by contract of the people with each other on any other principle than this; for, on any other principle, it could never be known what the people, as a whole, had agreed to. If every individual, after he had agreed to a constitution, could set up his own intentions, his own understandings of the instrument, or his own mental reservations, in opposition to the intentions expressed by the instrument itself, the constitution would be liable to have as many different meanings as there were different individuals who had agreed to it. And the consequence would be, that it would have no obligation at all, as a mutual and binding contract, for, very likely, no two of the whole would have understood the instrument alike in every particular, and therefore no two would have agreed to the same thing.

Each man, therefore, before he agrees to an instrument, must judge for himself, taking his own risk whether he understands it. After he has agreed to it, he is estopped, by his own instrument, from denying that his intentions were identical with the intentions expressed by the instrument.

The constitution of the United States, therefore, until its language is altered, or the instrument itself abolished, by the people of the United States, must be taken to express the intentions of the whole people of the United States, whether it really do express their intentions or not. It is the highest evidence of their intentions. It is the only evidence which they have all agreed to furnish of their intentions. All other adverse evidence is, therefore, legally worthless and inadmissible. The intentions of the instrument, then, must prevail, as being the intentions of the people, or the constitution itself is at an end.

SECOND RULE.

The second rule of interpretation is, that “the intention of the constitution must be collected from its words.”[*]

This rule is, in reality, nearly synonymous with the preceding one; and its reason, like that of the other, is apparent; for why are words used in writing a law, unless it is to be taken for granted that when written they contain the law? If more was meant, why was not more said? If less was meant, why was so much said? If the contrary was meant, why was this said, instead of the contrary?

To go beyond the words of a law, (including their necessary or reasonable implications,) in any case, is equivalent to saying that the written law is incomplete: that it, in reality, is not a law, but only a part of one; and that the remainder was left to be guessed at, or rather to be made, by the courts.

It is, therefore, a violation of legal rules, to go beyond the words of a law, (including their necessary or reasonable implications,) in any case whatever.[*]

To go contrary to the words of a law, is to abolish the law itself, by declaring its words to be false.

But it happens that the same words have such various and opposite meanings in common use, that there would be no certainty as to the meaning of the laws themselves, unless there were some rules for determining which one of a word’s various meanings was to be attached to it, when the word was found in a particular connection. Hence the necessity of rules of interpretation. Their office is to determine the legal meaning of a word, or, rather, to select the legal meaning of word, out of all the various meanings which the word bears in common use. Unless this selection were made, a word might have two or more different and contradictory meanings in the same place. Thus the law would be mere jargon, instead of being a certain and precise rule of action.

These rules of interpretation have never been specially enacted by statute, or constitutions, for even a statute or constitution enacting them would be unintelligible or uncertain, until interpreted by them. They have, therefore, originated in the necessity of the case; in the inability of words to express single, definite, and clear ideas, such as are indispensable to certainty in the law, unless some one of their several meanings be selected as the legal one.

Men of sense and honesty, who have never heard of these rules as legal ones, but who, nevertheless, assume that written laws and contracts are made for just and reasonable ends, and then judge of their meaning accordingly, unconsciously act upon these rules in so doing. Their perception of the fact, that unless the meaning of words were judged of in this manner, words themselves could not be used for writing laws and contracts, without being liable to be perverted to subserve all manner of injustice, and to defeat the honest intentions of the parties, forces upon them the conviction, that the legal meaning of the words must be such, and only such, as (it will hereafter be seen) these rules place upon them. The rules, then, are but the dictates of common sense and common honesty, applied to determining the meaning of laws and contracts. And common sense and common honesty are all that is necessary to enable one to judge of the necessity and soundness of the rules.

Rules of interpretation, then, are as old as the use of words, in prescribing laws, and making contracts. They are as necessary for defining the words as the words are for describing the laws and contracts. The words would be unavailable for writing laws and contracts, without the aid of the rules for interpreting them. The rules, then, are as much a part of the language of laws and contracts as are the words themselves. Their application to the words of laws and contracts is as much presumed to be understood, by all the parties concerned, as is the meaning of the words themselves. And courts have no more right to depart from, or violate, these rules, than to depart from, or contradict, the words themselves.

The people must always be presumed to understand these rules, and to have framed all their constitutions, contracts, &c., with reference to them, as much as they must be presumed to understand the common meanings of the words they use, and to have framed their constitutions and contracts with reference to them. And why? Because men’s contracts and constitutions would be no contracts at all, unless there were some rules of interpretation understood, or agreed upon, for determining which was the legal meaning of the words employed in forming them. The received rules of interpretation have been acted upon for ages;[*] indeed, they must have been acted upon through all time, since men first attempted to make honest contracts with each other. As no other rules than these received ones can be presumed against the parties, and as these are the only ones that can secure men’s honest rights, under their honest contracts; and, as everybody is bound to know that courts must be governed by fixed rules, applying the same to all contracts whatsoever, it must always be presumed, in each particular case, that the parties intended their instruments should be construed by the same rules by which the courts construe all others.

Another reason why the people must be presumed to know these rules, at least in their application to cases where a question of right and wrong is involved, is, that the rules are but a transcript of a common principle of morality, to wit, the principle which requires us to attribute good motives and good designs to all the words and actions of our fellow-men, that can reasonably bear such a construction. This is a rule by which every man claims that his own words and actions should be judged. It is also a principle of law, as well as of morals, and one, too, of which every man who is tried for an offence claims the benefit. And the law accords it to him. So long as there be so much as “a reasonable doubt” whether his words or actions evince a criminal intent, the law presumes a good intent, and gives him the benefit of it. Why should not the same rule be observed, in inferring the intent of the whole community, from the language of their laws and constitutions, which is observed in inferring the intent of each individual of that community from his language and conduct? It should clearly require as strong proof to convict the whole community of a crime, (and an unjust law or constitution is one of the highest of all possible crimes,) as it does to convict a single individual. The principle, then, is the same in both cases; and the practice of those who infer a bad intent from the language of the constitution, so long as the language itself admits of a reasonable doubt whether such be its intent, goes the length of overthrowing an universally recognized principle of law, on which the security of every accused person is liable to depend.[*]

For these, and perhaps other reasons, the people are presumed to understand the reason and justice of these rules, and therefore, to understand that their contracts will be construed by them. If, therefore, men ever frame constitutions or contracts with the intention that they shall be construed contrarily to these rules, their intention must be defeated; and for the same reason that they would have to be defeated if they had used words in a directly opposite sense to the common ones, such, for example, as using white when they meant black, or black when they meant white.

For the sake of having a case for the rules to apply to, we will take the representative clause, embracing the word “free,” (Art. 1, sec. 2,) which is the first and the strongest of all the clauses in the constitution that have been claimed as recognizing and sanctioning slavery. Indeed, unless this clause do recognize and sanction it, nobody would pretend that either of the other clauses do so. The same rules, if any, that prevent the representative clause and the word “free” from having any legal reference to slavery, will also have the same effect upon the other clauses. If, therefore, the argument for slavery, based upon the word “free,” falls to the ground, the arguments based upon the words “importation of persons,” “service and labor,” &c., must also fall; for they can stand, if at all, only by means of the support they obtain from the argument drawn from the word “free.”

THIRD RULE.

A third rule is, that we are always, if possible, to give a word some meaning appropriate to the subject matter of the instrument itself.[*]

This rule is indispensable, to prevent an instrument from degenerating into absurdity and nonsense.

In conformity with this rule, words which purport to describe certain classes of persons existing under the constitution, must be taken in a sense that will aptly describe such persons as were actually to exist under it, and not in a sense that will only describe those who were to have no existence under it.

It would, for instance, be absurd for the constitution to provide that, in every ten years, there should be “added to the whole number of free persons three fifths of all other persons,” if there were really to be no other persons than the free.

If, therefore, a sense correlative with slavery were given to the word free, it would make the word inappropriate to the subject matter of the constitution, unless there were really to be slaves under the constitution.

It is, therefore, inadmissible to say that the word free is used in the constitution as the correlative of slaves, until it be first proved that there were to be slaves under the constitution.

We must find out what classes of persons were to exist under the constitution, before we can know what classes of persons the terms used in the constitution apply to.

If the word free had but one meaning, we might infer, from the word itself, that such persons as that word would necessarily describe were to exist under the constitution. But since the word has various meanings, we can draw no certain inference from it alone, as to the class of persons to whom it is applied. We must, therefore, fix its meaning in the constitution, by ascertaining, from other parts of the instrument, what kind of “free persons,” and also what kind of “other persons,” were really to exist under the constitution. Until this is done, we cannot know the meaning of the word free, as it is used in the constitution.

Those who say that the word free is used, in the constitution, in a sense correlative with slavery, assume the very point in dispute; viz., that there were to be slaves under the constitution. This is the point to be proved, and cannot be assumed. And until it be proved, it is making nonsense of the constitution, to say that the word free is used as the correlative of slavery.

There is no language in the constitution, that expressly declares, or necessarily implies, that slavery was to exist under the constitution. To say, therefore, that the word free was used as the correlative of slaves, is begging the question that there were to be slaves; it is assuming the whole ground in dispute. Those who argue for slavery, must first prove, by language that can mean nothing less, that slavery was to be permitted under the constitution. Then they may be allowed to infer that the word free is used as its correlative. But until then, a different meaning must be given to the word, else the clause before cited is converted into nonsense.

On the other hand, in giving the word free the sense common at that day, to wit, a sense correlative with persons not naturalized, and not possessed of equal political privileges with others, we assume the existence of no class of persons except those whom the constitution itself especially recognizes, to wit, those possessing full political rights, as citizens, or members of the state, and those unnaturalized persons who will not possess full political rights. The constitution explicitly recognizes these two classes, because it makes a distinction between them in the matter of eligibility to certain offices, and it also explicitly authorizes Congress to pass laws for the naturalization of those who do not possess full rights as citizens.

If, then, we take the word free in the sense correlative with unnaturalized persons, the word has a meaning that is already appropriate to the subject matter of the instrument, and requires no illegal assumptions to make it so.

On the other hand, if we use the word in the sense correlative with slaves, we either make nonsense of the language of the constitution, or else we assume the very point in dispute, viz., that there were to be slaves under the constitution; neither of which have we any right to do.

This argument is sufficient, of itself, to overthrow all the arguments that were ever made in favor of the constitutionality of slavery.

Substantially the whole argument of the advocates of slavery is founded on the assumption of the very fact in dispute, viz., that there was to be slavery under the constitution. Not being able to prove, by the words of the constitution, that there was to be any slavery under it, they assume that there was to be slavery, and then use that assumption to prove the meaning of the constitution itself. In other words, not being able to prove slavery by the constitution, they attempt to prove the meaning of the constitution by slavery. Their whole reasoning on this point is fallacious, simply because the legality of slavery, under the constitution, is itself a thing to be proved, and cannot be assumed.

The advocates of slavery cannot avoid this dilemma, by saying that slavery existed at the time the constitution was adopted; for many things existed at the time, such as theft, robbery, piracy, &c., which were not therefore to be legalized by the constitution. And slavery had no better constitutional or legal existence than either of these crimes.

Besides, even if slavery had been legalized (as it was not) by any of the then existing state constitutions, its case would have been no better; for the United States constitution was to be the supreme law of the land, anything in the constitution or laws of any state to the contrary notwithstanding. The constitution being the supreme law, operating directly upon the people, and securing to them certain rights, it necessarily annulled everything that might be found in the state constitutions that was inconsistent with the freedom of the people to enjoy those rights. It of course would have annulled the legality of slavery, if slavery had then had any legal existence; because a slave cannot enjoy the rights secured by the United States constitution.

Further. The constitution is a political instrument, treating of men’s political rights and privileges. Its terms must therefore be taken in their political sense, in order to be appropriate to the subject matter of the instrument. The word free, in its political sense, appropriately describes men’s political rank as free and equal members of the state, entitled, of right, to the protection of the laws. On the other hand, the word free, in the sense correlative with slavery, has no appropriateness to the subject matter of such an instrument—and why? Because slavery is not, of itself, a political relation, or a political institution; although political institutions may, and sometimes do, recognize and legalize it. But, of itself, it is a merely private relation between one man and another, created by individual force, and not by political authority. Thus a strong man beats a weaker one, until the latter will obey him. This is slavery, and the whole of it; unless it be specially legalized. The United States constitution does not specially legalize it; and therefore slavery is no part of the subject matter of that instrument. The word free, therefore, in the constitution, cannot be said to be used as the correlative of slavery; because that sense would be entirely inappropriate to anything that is the subject matter of the instrument. It would be a sense which no other part of the constitution gives any occasion or authority for.

FOURTH RULE.

A fourth rule is, that where technical words are used, a technical meaning is to be attributed to them.

This rule is commonly laid down in the above general terms. It is, however, subject to these exceptions, viz., that where the technical sense would be inconsistent with, or less favorable to, justice, or not consonant to the context, or not appropriate to the nature of the subject, some other meaning may be adopted. Subject to these exceptions, the rule is of great authority, for reasons that will hereafter appear.

Thus, in commercial contracts, the terms and phrases used in them are to be taken in the technical or professional sense common among merchants, if that sense be consonant to the context, and appropriate to the nature of the contracts.

In political contracts, the terms and phrases used in them are to be taken in the political and technical sense common in such instruments, if that sense be consonant to the context, and appropriate to the subject matter of the contracts.

Terms common and proper to express political rights, relations, and duties, are of course to be taken in the technical sense natural and appropriate to those rights, relations, and duties.

Thus, in political papers, such terms as liberty, allegiance, representation, citizenship, citizens, denizens, freemen, free subjects, free-born subjects, inhabitants, residents, people, aliens, allies, enemies, are all to be understood in the technical sense appropriate to the subject matter of the instrument, unless there be something else, in the instrument itself, that shows that some other meaning is intended.

Terms which, by common usage, are properly descriptive of the parties to, or members of, the compact, as distinguished from others, are to be taken in the technical sense, which describes them, as distinguished from others, unless there be, in the instrument itself, some unequivocal evidence that they are to be taken in a different sense.

The authority of this rule is so well founded in nature, reason, and usage, that it is almost strange that it should be questioned. It is a rule which everybody, by their common practice, admit to be correct; for everybody more naturally understands a word in its technical sense than in any other, unless that sense be inconsistent with the context.

Nevertheless, an attempt has been made by some persons to deny the rule, and to lay down a contrary one, to wit, that where a word has what they choose to call a common or popular meaning, and also a technical one, the former is to be preferred, unless there be something, in other parts of the instrument, that indicates that the technical one should be adopted.

The argument for slavery virtually claims, not only that this so called common and popular meaning of a word, (and especially of the word “free,”) is to be preferred to the technical one, but also that this simple preference is of sufficient consequence to outweigh all considerations of justice and injustice, and indeed all, or nearly all, the other considerations on which legal rules of interpretation are founded. Nevertheless I am not aware that the advocates of slavery have ever had the good fortune to find a single instance where a court has laid it down, as a rule, that any other meaning is, of itself, preferable to the technical one; much less that that preference was sufficient, in cases where right and wrong were involved, to turn the scale in favor of the wrong. And if a court were to lay down such a rule, every one is at liberty to judge for himself of its soundness.

But inasmuch as this pretended rule is one of the main pillars, if not the main pillar, in support of the constitutionality of slavery, it is entitled to particular consideration.

The falsehood of this pretended rule will be evident when it is considered that it assumes that the technical meaning of a word is not the common and popular one; whereas it is the very commonness, approaching to uniformity, with which a word is used in a particular sense, in relation to particular things, that makes it technical. [*]

A technical word is a word, which in one profession, art, or trade, or in reference to particular subjects, is generally, or uniformly, used in a particular sense, and that sense a somewhat different one from those in which it is generally used out of that profession, art, or trade, or in reference to other subjects.

There probably is not a trade that has not its technical words. Even the cobbler has his. His ends are generally quite different things from the ends of other people. If we hear a cobbler speak of his ends, we naturally suppose he means the ends of his threads, because he has such frequent occasion to speak of and use them. If we hear other people speak of their ends, we naturally suppose that they mean the objects they have in view. With the cobbler, then, ends is a technical word, because he frequently or generally uses the word in a different sense from that in which it is used by other people.

Mechanics have very many technical words, as, for instance, to describe particular machines, parts of machines, particular processes of labor, and particular articles of manufacture. And when we hear a mechanic use one of these words, we naturally suppose that he uses it in a technical sense—that is, with reference to his particular employment, machinery, or production. And why do we suppose this? Simply because it is more common for him to use the word in that sense than in any other, especially if he is talking of anything in regard to which that sense would be appropriate. If, however, his talk is about some other subject, in relation to which the technical sense of the word would not be appropriate, then we conclude that he uses it, not in the technical sense appropriate to his art, but in some other sense more appropriate to the subject on which he is speaking.

So, if we were to hear a banker speak of “the days of grace having expired,” we should naturally attach a very different meaning to the words from what we should if we were to hear them from the pulpit. We should suppose, of course, that he used them in the technical sense appropriate to his business, and that he had reference only to a promissory note that had not been paid when due.

If we were to hear a banker speak of a check, we should suppose he used the word in a technical sense, and intended only an order for money, and not a stop, hindrance, or restraint.

So, if one farmer were to say of another, He is a good husband, we should naturally infer that he used the word husband in the technical sense appropriate to his occupation, meaning that he cultivated and managed his farm judiciously. On the other hand, if we were to hear lawyers, legislators, or judges, talking of husbands, we should infer that the word was used only in reference to men’s legal relations to their wives. The word would be used in a technical sense in both cases.

So, if we were to hear a man called a Catholic priest, we should naturally infer that the word Catholic was used in its technical sense, that is, to describe a priest of the Catholic persuasion, and not a priest of a catholic, liberal, and tolerant spirit.

These examples might be multiplied indefinitely. But it will be seen from those already given that, so far from the technical sense and the common sense of words being opposed to each other, the technical sense is itself the common sense in which a word is used with reference to particular subjects.

These examples also show how perfectly natural, instead of unnatural, it is for us to attribute the technical meaning to a word, whenever we are talking of a subject in relation to which that meaning is appropriate.

Almost every word of substantive importance, that is of frequent use in the law, is used in a technical sense—that is, in a sense having some special relation either to natural justice, or to men’s rights or privileges under the laws.

The word liberty, for instance, has a technical meaning in the law. It means, not freedom from all restraint, or obligation; not a liberty to trespass with impunity upon other men’s rights; but only that degree of liberty which, of natural right, belongs to a man; in other words, the greatest degree of liberty that he can exercise, without invading or immediately endangering the rights of others.

Unless nearly all words had a technical meaning in the law, it would be impossible to describe laws by words; because words have a great variety of meanings in common use; whereas the law demands certainty and precision. We must know the precise meaning of a word, before we can know what the law is. And the technical meaning of a word is nothing more than a precise meaning, that is appropriate, and commonly applied, to a particular subject, or class of subjects.

How would it be possible, for instance, to have laws against murder, unless the word murder, or some other word, were understood, in a technical sense, to describe that particular mode of killing which the law wishes to prohibit, and which is morally and legally distinguishable from all other modes of killing?

So indispensable are precision and certainty, as to the meaning of words used in laws, that where a word has not a technical meaning already known, the legislature frequently define the meaning they intend it shall bear in particular laws. Where this is not done, the courts have to give it a precise and definite meaning, before the law can be administered; and this precise meaning they have to conjecture, by reference to the context, and to the presumed object of all laws, justice.

What perfect chaos would be introduced into all our existing laws and contracts, if the technical meanings of all the words used in them were obliterated from our minds. A very large portion of the laws and contracts themselves would be substantially abolished, because all certainty as to their meaning would be extinguished. Suppose, for instance, the technical meanings of liberty, trial by jury, habeas corpus, grand jury, petit jury, murder, rape arson, theft, indictment, trial, oath, testimony, witness, court, verdict, judgment, execution, debt, dollar, bushel, yard, foot, cord, acre, rod, pound, check, draft, order, administrator, executor, guardian, apprentice, copartner, company, husband, wife, marriage, lands, goods, real estate, personal estate, highway, citizen, alien, subject, and an almost indefinite number of other words, as they now stand in our laws and contracts, were at once erased from our minds, and the legal meanings of the same words could only be conjectured by the courts and people from the context, and such other circumstances as might afford grounds for conjecture. Suppose all this, and where would be our existing laws and contracts, and the rights dependent upon them? We might nearly as well throw our statute-books, and all our deeds, notes, and other contracts, into the fire, as to strike out the technical meanings of the words in which they are written. Yet for the courts to disregard these technical meanings, is the same thing as to strike them out of existence.

If all our constitutions, state and national, were to be annulled at a blow, with all the statutes passed in pursuance of them, it would hardly create greater confusion as to men’s rights, than would be created by striking out from men’s minds all knowledge of the technical meanings of the words now used in writing laws and contracts. And the reconstruction of the governments, after such an abolition of them, would be a much less labor than the reconstruction of a legal language, in which laws and contracts could be written with the same conciseness and certainty as now. The former would be the work of years, the latter of centuries.

The foregoing considerations show in what ignorance and folly are founded the objections to the technical meanings of words used in the laws.

The real difference between the technical meaning of a word, and any other meaning, is just the difference between a meaning that is common, certain, and precise, and one that is, at best, less common, less certain, and less precise, and perhaps neither common, certain, nor precise.

The authorities in favor of the technical meaning, are given in the note, and are worthy of particular attention.[*]

The argument, and the whole argument, so far as I know, in favor of what is called the common or popular meaning, is, that that meaning is supposed to be better known by the people, and therefore it is more probable they would use it, than the other.

But this argument, if not wholly false, is very shallow and frivolous; for everybody is presumed to know the laws, and therefore they are presumed to be familiar with the technical meanings of all the technical words that are of frequent use in writing the laws. And this presumption of law corresponds with the general fact. The mass of the people, who are not learned in the law, but who nevertheless have general ideas of legal matters, naturally understand the words of the laws in their legal senses, and attach their legal senses to them without being aware that the legal sense is a technical one. They have been in the habit of thinking that the technical meaning of words was something dark and recondite, (simply because some few technical terms are in another language than the English,) when in reality they themselves are continually using a great variety of words, indeed, almost all important words, in a technical or legal sense, whenever they are talking of legal matters.

But whether the advocates of slavery can, or cannot, reconcile themselves to the technical meaning of the word “free,” they cannot, on their own construction of the constitution, avoid giving the word a precise and technical sense, to wit, as the correlative of slavery, as distinguished from all other forms of restraint and servitude.

The word slaves, if it had been used in the constitution, (instead of the words “all other persons,”) would have itself been held to be used in a technical sense, to wit, to designate those persons who were held as chattels, as distinguished from serfs, villeins, apprentices, servants for years, persons under twenty-one years of age, prisoners of war, prisoners for debt, prisoners for crime, soldiers, sailors, &c., &c. The word slaves, then, being technical, the word free must necessarily have been taken in a technical sense, to wit, as the precise correlative of chattel slaves, and not as the correlative of persons held under any of these other forms of restraint or servitude. So that on the score of technicality, (even if that were an objection,) nothing would be gained by adopting the sense correlative with slaves.

But it is a wholly erroneous assumption that the use of the word “free,” in a sense correlative with slaves, was either a common or popular use of the word. It was neither common nor popular, if we may judge of that time by the present; for now such a use of it is seldom or never heard, unless made with special reference to the classification which it is assumed that the constitution has established on that point.

The common and popular classification of the people of this country, with reference to slavery, is by the terms, white, free colored, and slaves. We do not describe anybody as free, except the free colored. The term white carries with it the idea of liberty; and it is nearly or quite universally used in describing the white people of the South, as distinguished from the slaves.

But it will be said by the advocates of slavery, that the term white was not used in the constitution, because it would not include all the free; that the term free was used in order to include both white and free colored. But this assertion is but another wholly gratuitous assumption of the facts, that there were to be slaves under the constitution, and that representation and taxation were to be based on the distinction between the slaves and the free; both of which points are to be proved, not assumed.

If there were to be slaves under the constitution, and if representation and taxation were to be based upon the distinction between the slaves and the free, then the constitution undoubtedly used the word free, instead of white, in order to include both the white and free colored in the class of units. But if, as we are bound to presume until the contrary is proved, there were to be no slaves under the constitution, or if representation and taxation were not founded on the distinction between them and the free, then the constitution did not use the word free for such a purpose. The burden is upon the advocates of slavery to prove, first, that there were to be slaves under the constitution, and, secondly, that representation and taxation were to be based on the distinction between them and the free, before they can say that the word free was used for the purpose of including the white and free colored.

Now the whole argument, or rather assertion, which the advocates of slavery can offer in support of these points, which they are necessitated to prove, is, that the word free is commonly and popularly used as the correlative of slaves. That argument, or assertion, is answered by the fact that the word free is not commonly or popularly used as the correlative of slaves; that the terms white and free colored are the common terms of distinction between the free and the slaves. Now these last named facts, and the argument resulting from them, are not met at all, by saying that if there were to be slaves, and if representation and taxation were to be based on the distinction between them and the free, the word free would then have been used, in preference to any other, in order to include the free colored in the same class with the whites.

It must first be proved that there were to be slaves under the constitution, and that representation and taxation were to be based on the distinction between them and the free, before it can be said that the word free was used in order to include both white and free colored. Those points not being proved, the allegation, founded on the assumption of them, is good for nothing.

The use of the word free, then, in a sense correlative with slavery, not being the common and popular use of the word at the time the constitution was adopted, all the argument, founded on that assumption, falls to the ground.

On the other hand, the use of the word free, in a political sense, as correlative either with aliens, or with persons not possessed of equal political privileges with others, was the universal meaning of the word, in all documents of a fundamental and constitutional character, up to the time when the constitution of the United States was adopted—(that is, when it was used, as it is in the United States constitution, to describe one person, as distinguished from another living under the same government.) Such was the meaning of the word in the colonial charters, in several of the State constitutions existing in 1789, and in the articles of confederation Furthermore, it was a term that had very recently been in common use in political discussions, and had thus been made perfectly familiar to the people. For example, the discussions immediately preceding the revolution, had all, or nearly all, turned upon the rights of the colonists, as “free British subjects.” In fact, the political meaning of the word free was probably as familiar to the people of that day as the meaning of the word citizen is now; perhaps, indeed, more so, for there is some controversy as to the legal meaning of the word citizen. So that all the argument against the technical sense of the term, on the ground of its not being the common sense, is founded in sheer ignorance or fraud.[*]

Finally; unless the word free be taken in the technical sense common at that day, it is wholly an unsettled matter what sense should be given to it, in the constitution. The advocates of slavery take it for granted that, if it be not taken in its common and technical sense, it must be taken in the sense correlative with slavery. But that is all gratuitous. There are many kinds of freedom besides freedom from chattel slavery; and many kinds of restraint besides chattel slavery; restraints, too, more legitimate in their nature, and better legitimated under the laws then existing, than slavery. And it may require a great deal more argument than some persons imagine, to settle the meaning of the word free, as used in the constitution, if its technical meaning be discarded.

I repeat, it is a wholly gratuitous assumption that, if the technical meaning of the word free be discarded, the sense correlative with slavery must be adopted. The word “free,” in its common and popular sense, does not at all imply, as its correlative, either property in man, or even involuntary service or labor. It, therefore, does not imply slavery. It implies, as its correlative, simply restraint. It is, of itself, wholly indefinite as to the kind of restraint implied. It is used as the correlative of all kinds of restraint, imprisonment, compulsion, and disability, to which mankind are liable. Nothing, therefore, can be inferred from the word alone, as to the particular kind of restraint implied, in any case. It is indispensable to know the subject matter, about which the word is used, in order to know the kind of restraint implied. And if the word had had no technical meaning appropriate to the subject matter of the constitution, and if no other part of the constitution had given us any light as to the sense of the word in the representative clause, we should have been obliged to conjecture its correlative. And slavery is one of the last correlatives that we should have been at liberty to adopt. In fact, we should have been obliged to let the implication remain inoperative for ambiguity, and to have counted all men as “free,” (for reasons given under rule seventh,) rather than have adopted slavery as its correlative.

FIFTH RULE.

A fifth rule of interpretation is, that the sense of every word, that is ambiguous in itself, must, if possible, be determined by reference to the rest of the instrument.

The importance of this rule will be seen, when it is considered that the only alternatives to it are, that we must go out of the instrument, and resort to conjecture, for the meaning of ambiguous words.

The rule is an universal one among courts, and the reasons of it are as follows:—

Vattel says, “If he who has expressed himself in an obscure or equivocal manner, has spoken elsewhere more clearly on the same subject, he is the best interpreter of himself. We ought to interpret his obscure and vague expressions, in such a manner, that they may agree with those terms that are clear and without ambiguity, which he has used elsewhere, either in the same treaty, or in some other of the like kind. In fact, while we have no proof that a man has changed his mind, or manner of thinking, it is presumed that his thoughts have been the same on the same occasions; so that if he has anywhere clearly shown his intention, with respect to anything, we ought to give the same sense to what he has elsewhere said obscurely on the same affair.”

— B. 2, ch. 17, sec. 284.

Also; “Frequently, in order to abridge, people express imperfectly, and with some obscurity, what they suppose is sufficiently elucidated by the things that preceded it, or even what they propose to explain afterwards; and, besides, the expressions have a force, and sometimes even an entirely different signification, according to the occasion, their connection, and their relation to other words. The connection and train of the discourse is also another source of interpretation. We ought to consider the whole discourse together, in order perfectly to conceive the sense of it, and to give to each expression, not so much the signification it may receive in itself, as that it ought to have from the thread and spirit of the discourse. This is the maxim of the Roman law: Incivile est, nist tota lege perspecta una aliqua particula ejus proposita, judicare, vel respondere.” (It is improper to judge of, or answer to, any one thing proposed in a law, unless the whole law be thoroughly examined.)

— Same, sec. 285.

Also; “The connection and relation of things themselves, serve also to discover and establish the true sense of a treaty, or of any other piece. The interpretation ought to be made in such a manner, that all the parts appear consonant to each other; that what follows agree with what went before; at least, if it does not manifestly appear, that by the last clauses, something is changed that went before. For it is presumed that the authors of the treaty have had an uniform and steady train of thought; that they did not desire things which ill agreed with each other, or contradictions; but rather that they have intended to explain one thing by another; and, in a word, that one and the same spirit reigns throughout the same work, or the same treaty.”

— Same, sec. 286.

The Sup. Court of Mass. says, “When the meaning of any particular section or clause of a statute is questioned, it is proper to look into the other parts of the statute; otherwise, the different sections of the same statute might be so construed as to be repugnant.”

—1 Pickering, 250.

Coke says, “It is the most natural and genuine exposition of a statute to construe one part of the statute by another part of the same statute.”

— Co. Lit., 381, b.

The foregoing citations indicate the absolute necessity of the rule, to preserve any kind of coherence or congruity between the different parts of an instrument.

If we were to go out of an instrument, instead of going to other parts of it, to find the meaning of every ambiguous word, we should be liable to involve the whole instrument in all manner of incongruities, contradictions, and absurdities. There are hardly three consecutive lines, of any legal instrument whatever, the sense of which can be understood without reference to other parts of the instrument.

To go out of an instrument, instead of going to other parts of it, to find the sense of an ambiguous word, is also equivalent to saying that the instrument itself is incomplete.

Apply this rule, then, to the word “free,” and the words “all other persons.” The sense of these words being ambiguous in themselves, the rest of the instrument must be examined to find the persons who may properly be denominated “free persons,” and “all other persons.” In making this examination, we shall find no classes mentioned answering to these descriptions, but the native and naturalized persons on the one hand, and those not naturalized on the other.

SIXTH RULE.

A sixth rule of interpretation, and a very important, inflexible, and universal one, applicable to contracts, is, that a contract must never, if it be possible to avoid it, be so construed, as that any one of the parties to it, assuming him to understand his rights, and to be of competent mental capacity to make obligatory [*] contracts, may not reasonably be presumed to have consented to it.

If, for instance, two men were to form a copartnership in business, their contract, if its language will admit of any other possible construction, must not be so construed as to make it an agreement that one of the partners shall be the slave of the other; because such a contract would be unnatural, unreasonable, and would imply that the party who agreed to be a slave was incompetent to make a reasonable, and therefore obligatory, contract.[†]

This principle applies to the constitution of the United States, and to all other constitutions that purport to be established by “the people;” for such constitutions are, in theory, but contracts of the people with each other, entered into by them severally for their individual security and benefit. It also applies equally to all statutes made in pursuance of such constitutions, because the statutes derive their authority from the constitutional consent or contract of the people that such statutes may be enacted and enforced. The authority of the statutes, therefore, as much rests on contract, as does the authority of the constitutions themselves. To deny that constitutions and statutes derive their authority from contract, is to found the government on arbitrary power.

By the rule laid down, these statutes and constitutions, therefore, must not be construed, (unless such construction be unavoidable,) so as to authorize anything whatever to which every single individual of “the people” may not, as competent men, knowing their rights, reasonably be presumed to have freely and voluntarily assented.

Now the parties to the contract expressed in the constitution of the United States, are “the people of the United States,” that is, the whole people of the United States. The description given of the parties to the constitution, as much includes those “people of the United States” who were at the time treated as slaves, as those who were not. The adoption of the constitution was not, in theory, the exercise of a right granted to the people by the State legislatures, but of the natural original right of the people themselves, as individuals. (This is the doctrine of the supreme court, as will presently appear.) The slaves had the same natural competency and right to establish, or consent to, government, that others had; and they must be presumed to have consented to it equally with others, if the language of the constitution implies it. We certainly cannot go out of the constitution to find the parties to it. And the constitution affords no legal ground whatever for separating the then “people of the United States” into two classes, and saying that one class were parties to the constitutional contract, and that the other class were not. There would be just as much reason in saying that the terms “the people” used in the constitutions of Massachusetts, Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont, to describe the parties to those constitutions, do not include all “the people” of those States, as there is for saying that all “the people of the United States” are not included in the constitutional description of them, and are not, therefore, parties to the constitution of the United States.

We are obliged to take this term, “the people,” in its broadest sense, unless the instrument itself have clearly and palpably imposed some restriction upon it.

It is a universal rule of courts, that where justice will be promoted by taking a word in the most comprehensive sense in which it can be taken consistently with the rest of the instrument, it must be taken in that sense, in order that as much justice as possible may be accomplished. On the other hand, where a word is unfavorable to justice, it must be taken in its most restricted sense, in order that as little injustice as possible may be accomplished.[*]

In conformity with this rule, the words, “the people of the United States,” would have to be taken in their most extensive sense, even though they stood but on an equal ground with other words in the instrument. But, in fact, they stand on privileged ground. Their meaning is to be determined before we proceed to the interpretation of the rest of the instrument. The first thing to be ascertained, in regard to an instrument, always is, who are the parties to it; for upon that fact may depend very many important things in the construction of the rest of the instrument. In short, the body of the instrument is to be interpreted with reference to the parties, and not the parties conjectured by reference to the body of the instrument. We must first take the instrument’s own declaration as to who the parties are; and then, if possible, make the body of the instrument express such, and only such, intentions, as all the parties named may reasonably be presumed to have agreed to.

Assuming, then, that all “the people of the United States” are parties to the constitutional contract, it is manifest, that it cannot reasonably be presumed that any, even the smallest, portion of them, knowing their natural rights, and being competent to make a reasonable contract of government, would consent to a constitution that should either make them slaves, or assist in keeping them in slavery. Such a construction, therefore, must not be put upon the contract, if the language admits of any other. This rule alone, then, is sufficient to forbid a construction sanctioning slavery.

It may, perhaps, be argued that the slaves were not parties to the constitution, inasmuch as they never, in fact, consented to it. But this reasoning would disfranchise half the population; for there is not a single constitution in the country—state, or national—to which one half of the people who are, in theory, parties to it, ever, in fact and in form, agreed. Voting for and under a constitution, are almost the only acts that can, with any reason at all, be considered a formal assent to a constitution. Yet a bare majority of the adult males, or about one tenth of the whole people, is the largest number of “the people” that has ever been considered necessary, in this country, to establish a constitution. And after it is established, only about one fifth of the people are allowed to vote under it, even where suffrage is most extended. So that no formal assent to a constitution is ever given by the people at large. Yet the constitutions themselves assume, and virtually assert, that all “the people” have agreed to them. They must, therefore, be construed on the theory that all have agreed to them, else the instruments themselves are at once denied, and, of course, invalidated altogether. No one, then, who upholds the validity of the constitution, can deny its own assertion, that all “the people” are parties to it. Besides, no one, unless it be the particular individuals who have not consented, can take advantage of the fact that they have not consented.

And, in practice, we do not allow even such individuals to take advantage of the fact of their non-consent, to avoid the burdens imposed by the instrument; and not allowing the individuals themselves to take advantage of it for that purpose, no other person, certainly, can be allowed to take advantage of it to shut them out from its protection and benefits.

The consent, then, of “the people” at large is presumed, whether they ever have really consented, or not. Their consent is presumed only on the assumption that the rights of citizenship are valuable and beneficial to them, and that if they understood that fact, they would willingly give their consent in form. Now, the slaves, if they understood that the legal effect of their consenting to the constitution would be “to secure the blessings of liberty to themselves and their posterity,” would doubtless all be as ready to give their actual assent to it, as any other portion of “the people” can be. Inasmuch, then, as such would be the legal effect of their consent, there is no other class of “the people of the United States,” whose consent to the constitution may, with so much reason, be presumed; because no other class have so much to gain by consenting to it. And since the consent of all is presumed, solely on the ground that the instrument is beneficial to them, regardless of their actual assent, there is no ground for excluding, or for not presuming, the consent of those, whose consent, on account of its beneficial operation upon their interests and rights, can be most reasonably and safely presumed.

But it may, perhaps, be said that it cannot reasonably be presumed that the slaveholders would agree to a constitution, which would destroy their right to their slave property.

One answer to this argument is, that the slaveholders had, at the time, no legal or constitutional right to their slaves, under their State constitutions, as has already been proved; and they must be presumed to have known that such was the fact, for every one is presumed to know the law.

A second answer is, that it is, in law, considered reasonable—as it is, in fact, one of the highest evidences of reason—for a man voluntarily to do justice, against his apparent pecuniary interests.

Is a man considered non compos mentis for restoring stolen property to its rightful owner, when he might have retained it with impunity? Or are all the men, who have voluntarily emancipated their slaves, presumed to have been fools? incompetent to make reasonable contracts? or even to have had less reason than those who refuse to emancipate? Yet this is the whole argument of those, who say that it cannot be supposed that the slaveholders would agree to a free constitution. The argument would have been good for nothing, even if the then existing State constitutions had authorized slavery.

There would be just as much reason in saying that it cannot be supposed that thieves, robbers, pirates, or criminals of any kind, would consent to the establishment of governments that should have authority to suppress their business, as there is in saying that slaveholders cannot be supposed to consent to a government that should have power to suppress slaveholding. If this argument were good for anything, we should have to apply it to the state constitutions, and construe them, if possible, so as to sanction all kinds of crimes which men commit, on the ground that the criminals themselves could not be supposed to have consented to any government that did not sanction them.

The truth is, that however great a criminal a man may have been, it is considered a very reasonable act for him to agree to do justice in future; and therefore, when communities establish governments for the purpose of maintaining justice and right, the assent of all the thieves, robbers, pirates, and slaveholders, is as much presumed, as is the assent of the most honest portion of community. Governments for the maintenance of justice and liberty could not be established by the consent of the whole people on any other ground.

It would be a delectable doctrine, indeed, for courts to act upon, in construing a constitution, to presume that it was intended to subserve the criminal purposes of a few of the greatest villains in community; and then to force all its honest words to yield to that presumption, on the ground that otherwise these villains could not be presumed to have agreed to it. Yet this is the doctrine practised upon by all who uphold the constitutionality of slavery. They know that the whole people, honest and dishonest, slaveholders and non-slaveholders alike, must be presumed to have agreed either to an honest or a dishonest constitution; and they think it more reasonable to presume that all the honest people agreed to turn knaves, than that all the knaves agreed to become honest. This presumption is the polar star of all their reasonings in favor of the constitutionality of slavery. If this presumption be a true guide in the interpretation of all other constitutions, laws, and contracts, it is, of course, a correct one for interpreting the constitution of the United States; otherwise not.

The doctrine, that an instrument, capable of an honest meaning, is to be construed into a dishonest one, merely because one in forty of the parties to it has been a dishonest man up to the time of making the agreement, (and probably not more than one in forty of “the people of the United States” were slaveholders,) would not only put it nearly or quite out of the power of dishonest men to make contracts with each other that would be held honest in the sight of the law, but it would even put it nearly or quite out of the power of honest men to make contracts with dishonest ones, that would be held honest in the sight of the law. All their contracts, susceptible of a dishonest meaning, would have to be so construed; and what contract is ever entered into by honest with dishonest men, that is not susceptible of such a construction, especially if we may go out of the contract, and inquire into the habits, character, and business of each of the parties, in order to find that one of them is a man who may be suspected of a dishonest motive, and this suspected motive of the one may then be attributed to the others as their true motive.

Such a principle of law would virtually cut off dishonest men from all right to make even honest contracts with their fellowmen, and would be a far greater calamity to themselves than the doctrine that holds all their contracts to be honest, that are susceptible of an honest construction; because it is indispensable to a dishonest man’s success and well-being in life that a large portion of his contracts should be held honest and valid.

Under a principle of law, that presumes everybody dishonest, and construes their constitutions, laws, and contracts accordingly, pandemonium would be established at once, in which dishonest men would stand no better chance than others; and would therefore have no more motive than others for sustaining the government.

In short, it is obvious that government would not, and could not, be upheld for an instant, by any portion of society, honest or dishonest, if such a presumption were to be adopted by the courts as a general rule for construing either constitutions, laws, or private contracts. Yet, let it be repeated, and never forgotten, that this presumption is indispensable to such a construction of the constitution as makes slavery constitutional. It is the sine qua non to the whole fabric of the slaveholding argument.

There is, then, no legal ground whatever for not presuming the consent of slaves, slaveholders, and non-slaveholders to the constitution of the United States, on the supposition that it prohibits slavery. Consequently, there is no legal ground for denying that the terms “the people of the United States,” included the whols of the then people of the United States. And if the whole of the people are parties to it, it must, if possible, be so construed as to make it such a contract as each and every individual might reasonably agree to. In short, it must, if possible, be so construed as not to make any of the parties consent to their own enslavement. Such a construction is possible, and being possible, is necessarily the true construction.

The constitution of the United States, therefore, would have abolished slavery, by making the slaves parties to it, even though the state constitutions had previously supported it.[*]

SEVENTH RULE.

The seventh rule of interpretation is the one that has been repeatedly cited from the supreme court of the United States, to wit:

“Where rights are infringed, where fundamental principles are overthrown, where the general system of the laws is departed from, the legislative intention must be expressed with irresistible clearness, to induce a court of justice to suppose a design to effect such objects.”

The pith of this rule is, that any unjust intention must be “expressed with irresistible clearness,” to induce a court to give a law an unjust meaning.

The word “expressed” is a very important one, in this rule. It is necessary, therefore, for the benefit of the unprofessional reader, to define it.

In law, a thing is said to be “expressed,” only when it is uttered, or written out, embodied in distinct words, in contradistinction to its being inferred, implied, or gathered from evidence exterior to the words of the law.

The amount of the rule, then, is, that the court will never, through inference, nor implication, attribute an unjust intention to a law; nor seek for such an intention in any evidence exterior to the words of the law. They will attribute such an intention to the law, only when such intention is written out in actual terms; and in terms, too, of “irresistible clearness.”

The rule, it will be observed, does not forbid a resort to inference, implication, or exterior evidence, to help out the supposed meaning of, or to solve any ambiguities in, a law that is consistent with justice. It only forbids a resort to such means to help out the supposed meaning of, or to solve any ambiguities in, an unjust law. It virtually says that if an ambiguous law can possibly be interpreted favorably to justice, it shall be thus interpreted. But if it cannot be thus interpreted, it shall be suffered to remain inoperative—void for its ambiguity—rather than the court will help out its supposed meaning by inference, implication, or exterior evidence.

Is this rule a sound one? It is; and for the following reasons:

Certainty is one of the vital principles of law. Properly speaking, nothing is law that is uncertain. A written law is only what is written. It is not certain, any further than it is written. If, then, we go out of the written law, we necessarily go into the region of uncertainty. It must, also, generally be presumed, that the legislature intend nothing more than they have chosen to communicate. It is therefore straining matters, and going beyond strict legal principles, to go out of the words of a law, to find its meaning, in any case whatever, whether for a good purpose, or a bad one.

It will be asked, then, “Why resort to inference, implication, and exterior evidence, to solve the ambiguities in a just law?” The answer is this: Such is the variety of senses in which language is used by different persons, and such the want of skill in many of those who use it, that laws are very frequently left in some ambiguity. Men, nevertheless, act upon them, assuming to understand them. Their rights thus become involved in the efficacy of the law, and will be sacrificed unless the law be carried into effect. To save these rights, and for no other purpose, the courts will venture to seek the meaning of the law in exterior evidence, when the intent of the law is good, and the apparent ambiguity not great. Strictly speaking, however, even this proceeding is illegal. Nothing but the necessity of saving men’s rights, affords any justification for it. But where a law is ambiguous and unjust, there is no such necessity for going out of its words to settle its probable meaning, because men’s rights will not be saved, but only sacrificed, by having its uncertainty settled, and the law executed. It is, therefore, better that the law should perish, be suffered to remain inoperative for its uncertainty, than that its uncertainty should be removed, (or, rather, attempted to be removed, for it cannot be removed absolutely, by exterior evidence,) and the law carried into effect for the destruction of men’s rights.

Assuming, then, the rule of the court to be sound, are the rules laid down in the “Unconstitutionality of Slavery,”[*] that have since been somewhat questioned,[†] embraced in it? Those rules are as follows:

1. “One of them is, that where words are susceptible of two meanings, one consistent, and the other inconsistent, with justice and natural right, that meaning, and only that meaning, which is consistent with right, shall be attributed to them, unless other parts of the instrument overrule that interpretation.”

This rule is clearly embraced in the rule of the court; for the rule of the court requires the unjust meaning to be “expressed with irresistible clearness,” before it can be adopted; and an unjust meaning certainly cannot be said to be “expressed with irresistible clearness,” when it is expressed only by words, which, consistently with the laws of language, and the rest of the instrument, are susceptible of an entirely different—that is, a perfectly innocent—meaning.

2. “Another rule, (if, indeed, it be not the same,) is, that no language except that which is peremptory, and no implication, except one that is inevitable, shall be held to authorize or sanction anything contrary to natural right.”

This rule is also clearly embraced in the rule of the court; for the rule of the court requires that the unjust intention be “expressed,” that is, uttered, written out in terms, as distinguished from being inferred, or implied. The requirement, also, that it be “expressed with irresistible clearness,” is equivalent to the requirement that the language be “peremptory.”

3. “Another rule is, that no extraneous or historical evidence shall be admitted to fix upon a statute an unjust or immoral meaning, when the words themselves of the act are susceptible of an innocent one.”

This rule is also clearly embraced in the rule of the court; for the rule of the court requires, not only that the unjust intention be “expressed,” written out, embodied in words, as distinct from being inferred, implied, or sought in exterior historical evidence, but also that it be embodied in words of “irresistible clearness.” Now, words that express their intention with “irresistible clearness,” can of course leave no necessity for going out of the words, to “extraneous or historical evidence,” to find their intention.

But it is said that these rules are in conflict with the general rule, that where a law is ambiguous, the probable intent of the legislature may be ascertained by extraneous testimony.

It is not an universal rule, as has already been shown, that even where a law, as a whole, is ambiguous, the intentions of the legislature may be sought in exterior evidence. It is only where a just law is ambiguous, that we may go out of its words to find its probable intent. We may never do it to find the probable intent of an unjust one that is ambiguous; for it is better that an unjust law should perish for uncertainty, than that its uncertainty should be solved by exterior evidence, and the law then be executed for the destruction of men’s rights.

Where only single words or phrases in a law are ambiguous, as is the case with the constitution of the United States, the rule is somewhat different from what it is where the law, as a whole, is ambiguous. In the case of single words and phrases that are ambiguous, all the rules applicable to ambiguous words and phrases must be exhausted in vain, before resort can be had to evidence exterior to the law, or the words and phrases be set down as sanctioning injustice. For example; to settle the meaning of an ambiguous word or phrase, we must, before going out of the instrument, refer to all the other parts of the instrument itself, to its preamble, its general spirit and object, its subject matter, and, in the case of the constitution, to “the general system of the laws” authorized and established by it. And the ambiguous word or phrase must be construed in conformity with these, if possible, especially when these are favorable to justice. And it is only when all these sources of light have failed to suggest a just, reasonable, and consistent meaning, that we can go out of the instrument to find the probable meaning.

If, when a single word or phrase were ambiguous, we could at once go out of the instrument, ( before going to other parts of it,) to find the probable intent of that single word or phrase, and could determine its intent, independently of its relation to the rest of the instrument, we should be liable to give it a meaning irrelevant to the rest of the instrument, and thus involve the whole instrument in absurdity, contradiction, and incongruity.

There are only four or five single words and phrases in the constitution, that are claimed to be ambiguous in regard to slavery. All the other parts of the instrument, its preamble, its prevailing spirit and principles, its subject matter, “the general system of the laws” authorized by it, all repel the idea of its sanctioning slavery. If, then, the ambiguous words and phrases be construed with reference to the rest of the instrument, there is no occasion to go out of the instrument to find their meaning.

But, in point of fact, the words of a law never are ambiguous, legally speaking, where the alternative is only between a meaning that is consistent, and one that is inconsistent, with natural right; for the rule that requires the right to be preferred to the wrong, is imperative and universal in all such cases; thus making the legal meaning of the word precisely as certain, as though it could, in no case, have any other meaning. It thus prevents the ambiguity, which, but for the rule, might have existed.

This rule, that a just, in preference to an unjust, meaning must be given to a word, wherever it is possible, consistently with the rest of the instrument, obviously takes precedence of the rule that permits a resort to exterior evidence; and for the following reasons:—

1. Otherwise, the rule in favor of the just meaning could seldom or never be applied at all, because when we have gone out of the words of the law, we have gone away from those things to which the rule applies. The exterior evidence which we should find, would not necessarily furnish any opportunity for the application of the rule. This rule, therefore, of preferring the just to the unjust meaning of a word, could hardly have had an existence, except upon the supposition that it was to be applied to the words given in the law itself. And if applied to the words given in the law itself, it of course settles the meaning, and there is then no longer any occasion to go out of the law to find its meaning.

2. Nothing would be gained by going out of a law to find evidence of the meaning of one of its words, when a good meaning could be found in the law itself. Nothing better than a good meaning could be expected to be found by going out of the law. As nothing could be gained, then, by going out of the law, the only object of going out of it would be to find an unjust meaning; but that, surely, is no sufficient reason for going out of it. To go out of a law to find an unjust meaning for its words, when a just meaning could be found in the law itself, would be acting on the principle of subverting all justice, if possible.

3. It would hardly be possible to have written laws, unless the legal meaning of a word were considered certain, instead of ambiguous, in such cases as this; because there is hardly any word used in writing laws, which has not more than one meaning, and which might not therefore be held ambiguous, if we were ever to lose sight of the fact, or abandon the presumption, that justice is the design of the law. To depart from this principle would be introducing universal ambiguity, and opening the door to universal injustice.

4. Certainty and right are the two most vital principles of the law. Yet certainty is always sacrificed by going out of the words of the law; and right is always liable to be sacrificed, if we go out of the words, with liberty to choose a bad meaning, when a good meaning can be found in the words themselves; while both certainty and right are secured by adhering uniformly to the rule of preferring the just to the unjust meaning of a word, wherever the two come in collision. Need anything more be said to prove the soundness of the rule?

The words of a law, then, are never ambiguous, legally speaking, when the only alternative is between a just and an unjust meaning. They are ambiguous only when both meanings are consistent with right, or both inconsistent with it.

In the first of these two cases, viz., where both meanings are consistent with right, it is allowable, for the sake of saving the rights dependent on the efficacy of the law, to go to extraneous history to settle the probable intention of the legislature. But in the latter case, viz., where both meanings are inconsistent with right, it is not allowable to go out of the words of the law itself, to ascertain the legislative intention. The law must rather be suffered to remain inoperative for its uncertainty.

The rule, quoted from the supreme court, comes fully up to these principles; for that rule requires, in order that an unjust law may be carried into effect, that the unjust intent be “expressed,” as distinguished from being inferred, implied, or sought in exterior evidence. It must also be “expressed with irresistible clearness.” If it be left in an uncertainty, the law will be construed in favor of the right, if possible; if not, it will be suffered to perish for its ambiguity.

Apply, then, this rule of the court, in all its parts, to the word “free,” and the matter will stand thus.

1. A sense correlative with aliens, makes the constitution consistent with natural right. A sense correlative with slaves, makes the constitution inconsistent with natural right. The choice must therefore be made of the former sense.

2. A sense correlative with aliens, is consistent with “the general system of the laws” established by the constitution. A sense correlative with slavery, is inconsistent with that system. The former sense then must be adopted.

3. If a sense correlative with aliens be adopted, the constitution itself designates the individuals to whom the word “free,” and the words “all other persons” apply. If a sense correlative with slaves be adopted, the constitution itself has not designated the individuals to whom either of these descriptions apply, and we should have to go out of the constitution and laws of the United States to find them. This settles the choice in favor of the former sense.

4. Even if it were admitted that the word “free” was used as the correlative of slaves, still, inasmuch as the constitution itself has not designated the individuals who may, and who may not, be held as slaves, and as we cannot go out of the instrument to settle any ambiguity in favor of injustice, the provision must remain inoperative for its uncertainty; and all persons must be presumed free, simply because the constitution itself has not told us who may be slaves.

Apply the rule further to the words “importation of persons,” and “service and labor,” and those words wholly fail to recognize slavery.

Apply the rule only to the word “free,” and slavery is unconstitutional; for the words “importation of persons,” and “service and labor,” can have no claims to be considered recognitions or sanctions of slavery, unless such a signification be first given to the word “free.”

EIGHTH RULE.

An eighth rule of interpretation is, that where the prevailing principles and provisions of a law are favorable to justice, and general in their nature and terms, no unnecessary exception to them, or to their operation, is to be allowed.

It is a dictate of law, as of common sense—or rather of law, because of common sense—that an exception to a rule cannot be established, unless it be stated with at least as much distinctness and certainty as the rule itself, to which it is an exception; because otherwise the authority of the rule will be more clear and certain, and consequently more imperative, than that of the exception, and will therefore outweigh and overbear it. This principle may justly be considered a strictly mathematical one. It is founded simply on the necessary preponderance of a greater quantity over a less. On this principle, an exception to a general law cannot be established, unless it be expressed with at least as much distinctness as the law itself.

In conformity with this principle, it is the ordinary practice, in the enactment of laws, to state the exceptions with the greatest distinctness. They are usually stated in a separate sentence from the rest of the law, and in the form of a proviso, or exception, commencing with the words “Provided, nevertheless,” “Excepting, however,” or words of that kind. And the language of the proviso is generally even more emphatic than that of the law, as it, in reality, ought to be, to preponderate against it.

This practice of stating exceptions has been further justified, and apparently induced, by that knowledge of human nature which forbids us to understand a man as contradicting, in one sentence what he has said in another, unless his language be incapable of any other meaning. For the same reason, a law, (which is but the expression of men’s intentions,) should not be held to contradict, in one sentence, what it has said in another, except the terms be perfectly clear and positive.

The practice of stating exceptions in this formal and emphatic manner, shows also that legislators have usually, perhaps unconsciously, recognized, and virtually admitted, the soundness of the rule of interpretation, that requires an exception to be stated with at least as much clearness as the law to which it is an exception.

This practice of stating exceptions in a clear and formal manner, is common even where no violation of justice is involved in the exception; and where an exception therefore involves less violation of reason and probability.

This rule of interpretation, in regard to exceptions, corresponds with what is common and habitual, if not universal, in common life, and in ordinary conversation. If, for instance, a man make an exception to a general remark, he is naturally careful to express the exception with peculiar distinctness; thus tacitly recognizing the right of the other party not to notice the exception, and the probability that he will not notice it, unless it be stated with perfect distinctness.

Finally. Although an exception is not, in law, a contradiction, it nevertheless partakes so strongly of the nature of a contradiction—especially where there is no legitimate or rightful reason for it—that it is plainly absurd to admit such an exception, except upon substantially the same terms that we admit a contradiction, viz., irresistible clearness of expression.

The question now is, whether there is, in the constitution, any compliance with these principles, in making exceptions in favor of slavery? Manifestly there is none. There is not even an approach to such a compliance. There are no words of exception; no words of proviso; no words necessarily implying the existence or sanction of anything in conflict with the general principles of the instrument.

Yet the argument for slavery, (I mean that founded on the representative clause,) makes two exceptions—not one merely, but two —and both of the most flagitious and odious character—without the constitution’s having used any words of proviso or exception; without its having devoted any separate sentence to the exception; and without its having used any words which, even if used in a separate sentence, and also preceded by a “Provided, nevertheless,” would have necessarily implied any such exceptions as are claimed. The exceptions are claimed as having been established merely incidentally and casually, in describing the manner of counting the people for purposes of representation and taxation; when, what is worse, the words used, if not the most common and proper that could have been used, are certainly both common and proper for describing the people, where no exception to “the general system of the laws” established by the constitution is intended.

It is by this process, and this alone, that the argument for slavery makes two exceptions to the constitution; and both, as has already been said, of the most flagitious and odious character.

One of these exceptions is an exception of principle, substituting injustice and slavery, for “justice and liberty.”

The other is an exception of persons; excepting a part of “the people of the United States” from the rights and benefits, which the instrument professes to secure to the whole; and exposing them to wrongs, from which the people generally are exempt.

An exception of principle would be less odious, if the injustice were of a kind that bore equally on all, or applied equally to all. But these two exceptions involve not only injustice in principle, but partiality in its operation. This double exception is doubly odious, and doubly inadmissible.

Another insuperable objection to the allowance of these exceptions, is, that they are indefinite —especially the latter one. The persons who may be made slaves are not designated. The persons allowed to be made slaves being left in uncertainty, the exception must fail for uncertainty, if for no other reason. We cannot, for the reasons given under the preceding rule, go out of the instrument to find the persons, because it is better that the exception should fail for its uncertainty, than that resort should be had to exterior evidence for the purpose of subjecting men to slavery.

NINTH RULE.

A ninth rule of interpretation is, to be guided, in doubtful cases, by the preamble.

The authority of the preamble, as a guide to the meaning of an instrument, where the language is ambiguous, is established. In fact, the whole object of the preamble is to indicate the objects had in view in the enacting clauses; and of necessity those objects will indicate the construction to be given to the words used in those clauses. Any other supposition would either make the preamble worthless, or, worse than that, deceitful.

If we are guided by the preamble in fixing the meaning of those clauses that have been claimed for slavery, it is plain that no sanction or recognition of slavery will be found in them; for the preamble declares the objects of the constitution to be, among other things, “justice” and “liberty.”[*]

TENTH RULE.

A tenth rule of interpretation is, that one part of an instrument must not be allowed to contradict another, unless the language be so explicit as to make the contradiction inevitable.

Now the constitution would be full of contradictions, if it tolerated slavery, unless it be shown that the constitution itself has established an exception to all its general provisions, limiting their operation and benefits to persons not slaves. Such an exception or limitation would not, legally speaking, be a contradiction. But I take it for granted that it has already been shown that no such exception can be made out from its words. If no such exception be made out from its words, such a construction must, if possible, be given to each clause of the instrument, as will not amount to a contradiction of any other clause. There is no difficulty in making such a construction; but when made it will exclude slavery.

ELEVENTH RULE.

An eleventh rule is one laid down by the supreme court of the United States, as follows:

“An act of congress” (and the rule is equally applicable to the constitution) “ought never to be construed to violate the law of nations, if any other possible construction remains.”[*]

This rule is specially applicable to the clause relative to “the importation of persons.” If that clause were construed to sanction the kidnapping of the people of foreign nations, and their importation into this country as slaves, it would be a flagrant violation of that law.

TWELFTH RULE.

A twelfth rule, universally applicable to questions both of fact and law, and sufficient, of itself alone, to decide, against slavery, every possible question that can be raised as to the meaning of the constitution, is this, “that all reasonable doubts must be decided in favor of liberty.”[†]

All the foregoing rules, it will be observed, are little other than varied and partial expressions of the rule so accurately, tersely, comprehensively, and forcibly expressed by the supreme court of the United States, viz.:

“Where rights are infringed, where fundamental principles are overthrown, where the general system of the laws is departed from, the legislative intention must be expressed with irresistible clearness, to induce a court of justice to suppose a design to effect such objects.”

THIRTEENTH RULE.

A thirteenth rule, and one of great importance, is, that instruments must be so construed as to give no shelter or effect to fraud.

This rule is especially applicable for deciding what meaning we are to give to the word free in the constitution; for if a sense correlative with slavery be given to that word, it will be clearly the result of fraud.

We have abundant evidence that this fraud was intended by some of the framers of the constitution. They knew that an instrument legalizing slavery could not gain the assent of the north. They therefore agreed upon an instrument honest in its terms, with the intent of misinterpreting it after it should be adopted.

The fraud of the framers, however, does not, of itself, implicate the people. But when any portion of the people adopt this fraud in practice, they become implicated in it, equally with its authors. And any one who claims that an ambiguous word shall bear a sense inappropriate to the subject matter of the instrument, contrary to the technical and common meaning of the word, inconsistent with any intentions that all the parties could reasonably be presumed to agree to, inconsistent with natural right, inconsistent with the preamble, and the declared purpose of the instrument, inconsistent with “the general system of the laws” established by the instrument; any one who claims such an interpretation, becomes a participator in the fraud. It is as much fraudulent, in law, for the people of the present day to claim such a construction of the word free, as it was for those who lived at the time the instrument was adopted.

Vattel has laid down two very correct principles to be observed as preventives of fraud. They are these:

1. That it is not permitted to interpret what has no need of interpretation.

2. That if a party have not spoken plainly, when he ought to have done so, that which he has sufficiently declared, shall be taken for true against him.

Vattel’s remarks in support of, and in connection with, these principles, are so forcible and appropriate that they will be given somewhat at length. If he had had in his mind this very fraud which the slaveholders and their accomplices intended to perpetrate by means of the word free in the constitution, he could hardly have said anything better fitting the case.

He says, “That fraud seeks to take advantage even of the imperfection of language; that men designedly throw obscurity and ambiguity into their treaties, to obtain a pretence for eluding them upon occasion. It is then necessary to establish rules founded on reason, and authorized by the law of nature, capable of frustrating the attempts of a contracting power void of good faith. Let us begin with those that tend particularly to this end; with those maxims of justice and equity destined to repress fraud and prevent the effect of its artifices.

“The first general maxim of interpretation is, that it is not permitted to interpret what has no need of interpretation. [*] When an act is conceived in clear and precise terms, when the sense is manifest and leads to nothing absurd, there can be no reason to refuse the sense which this treaty naturally presents. To go elsewhere in search of conjectures in order to restrain or extinguish it, is to endeavor to elude it. If this dangerous method be once admitted, there will be no act which it will not render useless. Let the brightest light shine on all the parts of the piece, let it be expressed in terms the most clear and determinate; all this shall be of no use, if it be allowed to search for foreign reasons in order to maintain what cannot be found in the sense it naturally presents.

“The cavillers who dispute the sense of a clear and determinate article, are accustomed to draw their vain subterfuges from the pretended intention and views of the author of that article. It would often be very dangerous to enter with them into the discussion of these supposed views, that are not pointed out in the piece itself. This rule is more proper to repel them, and which cuts off all chicanery; if he who can and ought to have explained himself clearly and plainly, has not done it, it is the worse for him; he cannot be allowed to introduce subsequent restrictions which he has not expressed. This is the maxim of the Roman law; Pactionem obscuram iis nocere, in quorum fuit potestate legem apertius conscribere. (The harm of an obscure compact shall fall upon those in whose power it was to write the rule plaiply.) The equity of this rule is extremely visible, and its necessity is not less evident. There can be no secure conventions, no firm and solid concession, if these may be rendered vain by subsequent limitations that ought to have been mentioned in the piece, if they were included in the intentions of the contracting powers.”— Vattel, b. 2, ch. 17, secs. 262, 263, 264.

“On every occasion when a person has, and ought to have shown his intention, we take for true against him what he has sufficiently declared. This is an incontestible principle applied to treaties; for if they are not a vain play of words, the contracting parties ought to express themselves with truth, and according to their real intentions. If the intention sufficiently declared, was not taken for the true intention of him who speaks and binds himself, it would be of no use to contract and form treaties.”— Same, sec. 266.

“Is it necessary, in an enlightened age, to say that mental reservations cannot be admitted in treaties? This is manifest, since by nature even of the treaty, the parties ought to declare the manner in which they would be reciprocally understood. There is scarcely a person at present, who would not be ashamed of building upon a mental reservation. What can be the use of such an artifice, if it was not to lull to sleep some other person under the vain appearance of a contract? It is, then, a real piece of knavery.”— Same, sec. 275.

“There is not perhaps any language that has not also words which signify two or many different things, or phrases susceptible of more than one sense. Thence arise mistakes in discourse. The contracting powers ought carefully to avoid them. To employ them with design, in order to elude engagements, is a real perfidy, since the faith of treaties obliges the contracting parties to express their intentions clearly. But if the equivocal term has found admission into a public treaty, the interpretation is to make the uncertainty produced by it disappear.

“This is the rule that ought to direct the interpretation in this case. We ought always to give to expressions the sense most suitable to the subject, or to the matter to which they relate. For we endeavor by a true interpretation, to discover the thoughts of those who speak, or of the contracting powers in a treaty. Now it ought to be presumed that he who has employed a word capable of many different significations, has taken it in that which agrees with the subject. In proportion as he employs himself on the matter in question, the terms proper to express his thoughts present themselves to his mind; this equivocal word could then only offer itself in the sense proper to express the thought of him who makes use of it, that is, in the sense agreeable to the subject. It would be to no purpose to object, that we sometimes have recourse to equivocal expressions, with a view of exhibiting something very different from what one has truly in the mind, and that then the sense which agrees with the subject is not that which answers to the intention of the man who speaks. We have already observed, that whenever a man can and ought to have made known his intention, we may take for true against him what he has sufficiently declared. And as good faith ought to preside in conventions, they are always interpreted on the supposition that it actually did preside in them.”— Same, sec., 279, 80.

“The reason of the law, or the treaty, that is, the motive which led to the making of it, and the view there proposed, is one of the most certain means of establishing the true sense, and great attention ought to be paid to it whenever it is required to explain an obscure, equivocal and undetermined point, either of a law, or of a treaty, or to make an application of them to a particular case. As soon as we certainly know the reason which alone has determined the will of him who speaks, we ought to interpret his words, and to apply them in a manner suitable to that reason alone. Otherwise he will be made to speak and act contrary to his intention, and in a manner opposite to his views.

But we ought to be very certain that we know the true and only reason of the law, the promise, or the treaty. It is not here permitted to deliver ourselves up to vague and uncertain conjectures, and to suppose reason and views where there are none certainly known. If the piece in question is obscure in itself; if in order to know the sense, there are no other means left but to search for the reason of the act, and the views of the author; we must then have recourse to conjecture, and in the want of certainty, receive for true, what is most probable. But it is a dangerous abuse to go, without necessity, in search of reasons and uncertain views, in order to turn, restrain, or destroy, the sense of a piece that is clear enough in itself, and that presents nothing absurd; this is to offend against this incontestible maxim, that it is not permitted to interpret what has no need of interpretation. Much less is it permitted, when the author of a piece has himself there made known his reasons and motives, to attribute to him some secret reason, as the foundation to interpret the piece contrary to the natural sense of the terms. Though he had really the view attributed to him, if he has concealed it, and made known others, the interpretation can only be founded upon these, and not upon the views which the author has not expressed; we take for true against him what he has sufficiently expressed.”— Same, sec. 287.

FOURTEENTH RULE.

In addition to the foregoing particular rules of interpretation, this general and sweeping one may be given, to wit, that we are never unnecessarily to impute to an instrument any intention whatever which it would be unnatural for either reasonable or honest men to entertain. Such intention can be admitted only when the language will admit of no other construction.

Law is “a rule of conduct.” The very idea of law, therefore, necessarily implies the ideas of reason and right. Consequently, every instrument, and every man, or body of men, that profess to establish a law, impliedly assert that the law they would establish is reasonable and right. The law, therefore, must, if possible, be construed consistently with that implied assertion.

RULES CITED FOR SLAVERY.

The rules already given (unless perhaps the fourth) take precedence of all the rules that can be offered on the side of slavery; and, taking that precedence, they decide the question without reference to any others.

It may, however, be but justice to the advocates of slavery, to state the rules relied on by them. The most important are the following:

FIRST RULE CITED FOR SLAVERY.

One rule is, that the most common and obvious sense or a word is to be preferred.

This rule, so far as it will apply to the word free in the constitution, is little or nothing more than a repetition of the rule before given, (under rule fourth,) in favor of the technical meaning of words. It avails nothing for slavery; and for the following reasons:

1. In determining, in a particular case, what is “the most common and obvious meaning” of a word, reference must be had not alone to the sense in which the word is most frequently used in the community, without regard to the context, or the subject to which it is applied; but only to its most common meaning, when used in a similar connection, for similar purposes, and with reference to the same or similar subjects. For example. In a law relative to vessels navigating Massachusetts Bay, or Chesapeake Bay, we must not understand the word bay in the same sense as when we speak of a bay horse, a bay tree, or of a man standing at bay. Nor in a law regulating the rate of discount, or the days of grace, on checks, notes, drafts and orders, must we understand the word check in the same sense as when we speak of a man’s being checked in his career; nor the word note in the same sense as when we speak of notes in music, or of a man of note; nor the word draft in the same sense as when we speak of a ship’s draft of water, or of a sketch, plan, or drawing on paper; nor the word order in the same sense as when we speak of a military order, or orders in architecture, or of different orders of men, as the order of dukes, the order of knights, the order of monks, the order of nuns, &c., &c.

All can see that the meanings of the same words are so different when applied to different subjects, and used in different connections, that written laws would be nothing but jargon, and this rule utterly ridiculous, unless, in determining the most common and obvious meaning of a word, in any particular case, reference be had to its most common use in similar connections, and when applied to similar subjects, and with similar objects in view.

To ascertain, then, the most “common and obvious meaning” of the word “free,” in such a connection as that in which it stands in the constitution, we must first give it a meaning that appropriately describes a class, which the constitution certainly presumes will exist under the constitution. Secondly, a meaning which the whole “people of the United States,” (slaves and all,) who are parties to the constitution, may reasonably be presumed to have voluntarily agreed that it should have. Thirdly, we must give it a meaning that will make the clause in which it stands consistent with the intentions which “the people,” in the preamble, declare they have in view in ordaining the constitution, viz., “to establish justice,” and “secure the blessings of liberty to themselves, (the whole people of the United States,) and their posterity.” Fourthly, we must give it a meaning harmonizing with, instead of contradicting, or creating an exception to, all the general principles and provisions of the instrument. Fifthly, such a meaning must be given to it as will make the words, “all other persons,” describe persons who are proper subjects of “representation” and of taxation as persons. No one can deny that, at the time the constitution was adopted, the most “common and obvious meaning” of the word “free,” when used by the whole people of a state or nation, in political instruments of a similar character to the constitution, and in connection with such designs, principles, and provisions as are expressed and contained in the constitution, was such as has been claimed for it in this argument, viz., a meaning describing citizens, or persons possessed of some political franchise, as distinguished from aliens, or persons not possessed of the same franchise. Nobody can deny this. On the contrary, everybody who argues that it describes free persons, as distinguished from slaves, admits, and is obliged to admit, that this meaning is either in conflict with, or an exception to, the professed intent, and all the general principles and provisions of the instrument.

If the constitution had purported to have been instituted by a part of the people, instead of the whole; and for purposes of injustice and slavery, instead of “justice and liberty;” and if “the general system of the laws” authorized by the constitution, had corresponded with that intention, there would then have been very good reason for saying that “the most common and obvious meaning” of the word “free,” in such a connection, was to describe free persons as distinguished from slaves. But as the constitution is, in its terms, its professed intent, and its general principles and provisions, directly the opposite of all this; and as the word “free” has a “common and obvious meaning,” that accords with these terms, intent, principles, and provisions, its most “common and obvious meaning,” in such a connection, is just as clearly opposite to what it would have been in the other connection, as its most common and obvious meaning, in the other connection, would be opposite to the meaning claimed for it in this. This position must either be admitted, or else it must be denied that the connection in which a word stands has anything to do with fixing its most “common and obvious meaning.”[*]

Again. It has already been shown that the most common, and the nearly or quite universal meaning, given to the word free, both in this country and in England, when used in laws of a fundamental character, like the constitution, or, indeed, in any other laws, (for the purpose of designating one person, as distinguished from another living under the same laws,) was not to designate a free person, as distinguished from a slave, but to distinguish a citizen, or person possessed of some franchise, as distinguished from aliens, or persons not possessed of the same franchise. The authority of this rule, then, so far as it regards the most “common” meaning of this word in the law, is entirely in favor of the argument for freedom, instead of the argument for slavery.

2. But the rule fails to aid slavery for another reason. As has before been remarked, the word “free” is seldom or never used, even in common parlance, as the correlative of slaves, unless when applied to colored persons. A colored person, not a slave, is called a “free colored person.” But the white people of the south are never, in common parlance, designated as “free persons,” but as white persons. A slaveholder would deem it an insult to be designated as a “free person,” that is, using the word free in a sense correlative with slavery, because such a designation would naturally imply the possibility of his being a slave. It would naturally imply that he belonged to a race that was sometimes enslaved. Such an implication being derogatory to his race, would be derogatory to himself. Hence, where two races live together, the one as masters, the other as slaves, the superior race never habitually designate themselves as the “free persons,” but by the appropriate name of their race, thus avoiding the implication that they can be made slaves.

Thus we find, that the use of the word “free” was “common,” in the law, to describe those who were citizens, but it was not “common,” either in the law, or in common parlance, for describing the white people of the south, as distinguished from their slaves. The rule, then, that requires the most common and obvious meaning of the word to be preferred, wholly fails to give to the word free, as used in the constitution, a meaning correlative with slaves.

3. But in point of fact, the rule that requires us to prefer the most “common and obvious meaning,” is of a wholly subordinate and unauthoritative character, when compared with the rules before laid down, except so far as it is necessary to be observed in order to preserve a reasonable connection and congruity of ideas, and prevent the laws from degenerating into nonsense. Further than this, it has no authority to give an unjust meaning to a word that admits of a just one, or to give to a word a meaning, inconsistent with the preamble, the general principles, or any other provisions, of an instrument. In short, all the rules previously laid down, (unless, perhaps, the fourth, which is nearly or quite synonymous with this,) take precedence of this, and this is of no consequence, in comparison with them, (except as before mentioned,) when they come in conflict. In this case, however, of the word free, there is no conflict. And the same may be said of the words, “held to service or labor,” and “the importation of persons.” Neither of these two latter forms of expression had probably ever been used in the country, either in law or in common parlance, to designate slaves or slavery. Certainly there had been no common use of them for that purpose; and such, therefore, cannot be said to be either their common or their obvious meaning. But even if such were their common and obvious meaning, it would not avail against the rule in favor of liberty or right, or any of the other rules before laid down.

That the other rules take precedence of this, is proved by the fact, that otherwise those rules could never have had an existence. If this rule took precedence of those, it would invariably settle the question; no other rule of interpretation would ever be required; because, it is not a supposable case, that there can ever be two meanings, without one being more common or obvious than the other. Consequently, there could never be any opportunity to apply the other rules, and they, therefore, could never have had an existence.

If this rule took precedence of the others, all legal interpretation would be resolved into the simple matter of determining which was the most common and obvious meaning of words in particular connections. All questions of written law would thus be resolved into a single question of fact; and that question of fact would have to be decided by a judge, instead of a jury. And a very slight preponderance of evidence, as to the senses in which words are most commonly understood, would often have to determine the question. The judge, too, would have to be presumed omniscient as to the most common and obvious meaning of words, as used by the people at large, each one of whom is known to often use words in different senses, and with different shades of meaning, from all others. And the slightest preponderance of evidence on this point, that should appear to the judge’s mind alone, would be sufficient to overrule all those palpable principles of liberty, justice, right, and reason, which the people at large, (who cannot reasonably be presumed to be very critical or learned plilologists,) have in view in establishing government and laws. In short, courts, acting on such a principle, would in practice be little or nothing more than philological, instead of legal, tribunals.

Government and laws being established by the people at large, not as philologists, but as plain men, seeking only the preservation of their rights, the words they use must be made to square with that end, if possible, instead of their rights being sacrificed to nice philological criticisms, to which the people are strangers. Not that, in interpreting written laws, the plain and universal principles of philology are to be violated, for the sake of making the laws conform to justice; for that would be equivalent to abolishing all written laws, and abolishing the use of words as a means of describing the laws. But the principle is, that great latitude must be allowed in matters of philology, in accommodation of the various senses in which different men use and understand the same word in the same circumstances; while a severe and rigid adherence is required to principles of natural right, which are far more certain in their nature, and in regard to which all men are presumed to be agreed, and which all are presumed to have in view in the establishment of government and laws. It is much more reasonable to suppose—because the fact itself is much more common—that men differ as to the meaning of words, than that they differ as to the principles which they try to express by their words.

No two men, in drawing up the same law, would do it in the same words, owing to their different tastes, capacities, and habits, in the use of language. And yet a law, when written, must, in theory, mean the same to all minds. This necessity of having the law mean the same to all minds, imposes upon courts the necessity of disregarding men’s different tastes and habits in the matter of words, and of construing the words of all laws so as to make them conform as nearly as possible to some general principle, which all men are presumed to have in view, and in regard to which all are presumed to be agreed. And that general principle is justice.

The result, then, is, that justice and men’s rights—the preservation of which is the great object of all the government and laws to which it is a supposable case that the whole people can have agreed—must not be staked on the decision of such a nice, frivolous, and uncertain point, as is the one, whether this or that meaning of a word is the more common one in the community, or the more obvious one to the generality of minds, in particular cases, when, in fact, either meaning is grammatically correct, and appropriate to the subject. Instead of such folly and suicide, any meaning, that is consonant to reason in the connection in which the word stands, and that is consistent with justice, and is known and received by society, though less common or obvious than some others, must be adopted, rather than justice be sacrificed, and the whole object of the people in establishing the government be defeated.

So great is the disagreement, even among scholars and lexicographers, as to the meaning of words, that it would be plainly impossible for the most acute scholars to agree upon a code of written laws, having in view the preservation of their natural rights, unless they should also expressly or impliedly agree, that, out of regard to the different senses in which the different individuals of their number might have understood the language in which the laws were written, the courts, in construing those laws, should be allowed very great latitude whenever it should be necessary, for the purpose of finding a sense consistent with justice. And if this latitude would be required in construing an instrument agreed to only by scholars and critics, how much more is it required in construing an instrument agreed to by mankind at large.

This rule, then, that prefers the most common and obvious meaning of words, is a very insignificant and unimportant one, compared with the previous ones; and it can legally be resorted to, only where the prior ones, (unless, perhaps, the fourth,) are either inapplicable to, or have failed to determine the question; as, for instance, in cases where there is involved no question of right or wrong, or of consistency or inconsistency with the preamble, the general principles, or other particular provisions of an instrument; where nothing more than questions of expediency or convenience are concerned. And even a clear case of serious inconvenience only, is sufficient to set aside the rule, unless the language be very explicit.[*]

This rule, in favor of the most common and obvious meaning of words, has never, so far as I am aware, been laid down as decisive, by the Supreme Court of the United States, in any cases where any question of right, consistency, or of great and manifest convenience, was involved. I think it has generally been cited as authoritative, in constitutional questions, only where the doubt was, whether a particular constitutional power had been vested in the general government, or reserved to the states. In such cases, where the power was admitted to be in one government or the other, and where no question of right, of consistency with other parts of the instrument, or of manifest convenience, was involved, the court, very properly assuming that the power might be as rightfully vested in one government as in the other, at the discretion of the people, have held that the doubt should be determined by taking the language of the constitution to have been used in its most common and obvious sense. But such a decision of a mere question as to which of two governments is the depository of a particular power, which is conceded to be vested in one or the other, has nothing to do with cases where a question of right or wrong is involved, or of consistency with other parts of the instrument, or even where a serious and clear question of inconvenience is concerned.

If, however, that court have, at any time, laid greater stress upon the rule, they are not sustained, either by the reason of things, or by the practice of other courts; nor are they consistent or uniform in the observance of it themselves.[*]

SECOND RULE CITED FOR SLAVERY.

A second rule of interpretation, relied upon by the advocates of slavery, is that where laws are ambiguous, resort may be had to exterior circumstances, history, &c., to discover the probable intention of the law-givers.

But this is not an universal rule, as has before been shown, (under rule seventh,) and has no application to a question that can be settled by the rules already laid down, applicable to the words themselves. It is evident that we cannot go out of the words of a law, to find its meaning, until all the rules applicable to its words have been exhausted. To go out of a law to find the meaning of one of its words, when a meaning, and a good meaning, can be found in the law, is assuming gratuitously that the law is incomplete; that it has been but partially written; that, in reality, it is not a law, but only a part of a law; and that we have a right to make any additions to it that we please.

Again. When we go out of the words of the law, we necessarily go into the regions of conjecture. We therefore necessarily sacrifice certainty, which is one of the vital principles of the law. This cannot be done for any bad purpose. It can only be done to save rights, (not to accomplish wrongs,) depending on the efficacy of the law.

To go out of a law to find a bad meaning, when a good meaning can be found in the law, is also to sacrifice right, the other vital principle of law. So that both certainty and right would be sacrificed by going out of the constitution to find the meaning, or application, of the word free; since an appropriate and good meaning is found in the instrument itself.

Further. It has before been shown, (under rule seventh,) that a word is not, legally speaking, “ambiguous,” when the only question is between a just and an unjust meaning; because the rule, which requires the right to be preferred to the wrong, being uniform and imperative, makes the meaning always and absolutely certain; and thus prevents the ambiguity that might otherwise have existed.

It is true that, in a certain sense, such a word may be called “ambiguous,” but not in a legal sense. Almost every word that is used in writing laws, might be called ambiguous, if we were allowed to lose sight of the fact, or unnecessarily abandon the presumption, that the law is intended for purposes of justice and liberty.

But this point has been so fully discussed in the former part of this chapter, (under rule seventh,) that it need not now be discussed at length.

It is not to be forgotten, however, that even if we go out of the constitution to find the meaning of the word free, and resort to all the historical testimony that is of a nature to be admissible at all, we shall still be obliged to put the same construction upon it as though we take the meaning presented by the constitution itself. The use of the word in all laws of a similar character, and even of a dissimilar character, to the constitution, fixes this meaning. The principles of liberty, prevailing in the country generally, as evidenced by the declaration of independence, and the several State constitutions, and constituting at least the paramount, the preponderating, law, in every State of the Union, require the same meaning to be given to the word.

The fact, that this prevailing principle of liberty, or this general principle of law, was, at that time, violated by a small portion, (perhaps one fortieth,) of the community, (the slaveholders,) furnishes no legal evidence against this construction; because the constitution, like every other law, presumes everybody willing to do justice, unless the contrary explicitly appear in the instrument itself. This is a reasonable presumption, both in fact and in law, as has before been suggested, (under rule sixth.) What court ever laid down the rule that an instrument was “ambiguous,” or that an unjust meaning must be given to it, because its just meaning was more just than the parties, or some few of the parties, could reasonably be presumed to have intended the instrument should be? If this idea were admissible, as a rule of interpretation, all our most just and equitable laws are liable to be held ambiguous, and to have an unjust construction put upon them, (if their words will admit of it,) on the ground of their present construction being more just than some portion of the community, for which they were made, could be presumed to desire them to be. The slaveholders, then, must be presumed to have been willing to do justice to their slaves, if the language of the constitution implies it, whether they were really willing or not. No unwillingness to do justice can be presumed on the part of the slaveholders, any more than on the part of any other of the parties to the constitution, as an argument against an interpretation consistent with liberty.

Again. The real or presumed intentions of that particular portion of the “people,” who were slaveholders, are of no more legal consequence towards settling ambiguities in the constitution, than are the real or presumed intentions of the same number of slaves; for both slaves and slaveholders, as has been shown, (under rule sixth,) were, in law, equally parties to the constitution. Now, there were probably five or ten times as many slaves as slaveholders. Their intentions, then, which can be presumed to have been only for liberty, overbalance all the intentions of the slaveholders. The intentions of all the non-slaveholders, both north and south, must also be thrown into the same scale with the intentions of the slaves—the scale of liberty.

But further. The intentions of all parties, slaves, slaveholders, and non-slaveholders, throughout the country, must be presumed to have been precisely alike, because, in theory, they all agreed to the same instrument. There were, then, thirty, forty, or fifty, who must be presumed to have intended liberty, where there was but one that intended slavery. If, then, the intentions, principles, and interests, of overwhelming majorities of “the people,” who “ordained and established the constitution,” are to have any weight in settling ambiguities in it, the decision must be in favor of liberty.[*]

But it will be said that, in opposition to this current of testimony, furnished by the laws and known principles of the nation at large, we have direct historical evidence of the intentions of particular individuals, as expressed by themselves at or about the time.

One answer to this argument is, that we have no legal evidence whatever of any such intentions having been expressed by a single individual in the whole nation.

Another answer is, that we have no authentic historical evidence of such intentions having been expressed by so many as five hundred individuals. If there be such evidence, where is it? and who were the individuals? Probably not even one hundred such can be named. And yet this is all the evidence that is to be offset against the intentions of the whole “people of the United States,” as expressed in the constitution itself, and in the general current of their then existing laws.

It is the constant effort of the advocates of slavery, to make the constitutionality of slavery a historical question, instead of a legal one. In pursuance of this design, they are continually citing the opinions, or intentions, of Mr. A, Mr. B, and Mr. C, as handed down to us by some history or other; as if the opinions and intentions of these men were to be taken as the opinions and intentions of the whole people of the United States; and as if the irresponsible statements of historians were to be substituted for the constitution. If the people of this country have ever declared that these fugitive and irresponsible histories of the intentions and sayings of single individuals here and there, shall constitute the constitutional law of the country, be it so; but let us be consistent, burn the constitution, and depend entirely upon history. It is nothing but folly, and fraud, and perjury, to pretend to maintain, and swear to support, the constitution, and at the same time get our constitutional law from these irresponsible sources.

If every man in the country, at the time the constitution was adopted, had expressed the intention to legalize slavery, and that fact were historically well authenticated, it would be of no legal importance whatever—and why? Simply because such external expressions would be no part of the instrument itself.

Suppose a man sign a note for the payment of money, but at the time of signing it declare that it is not his intention to pay it, that he does not sign the note with such an intention, and that he never will pay it. Do all these declarations alter the legal character of the note itself, or his legal obligation to pay? Not at all—and why? Because these declarations are no part of that particular promise which he has expressed by signing the note. So if every man, woman, and child in the Union, at the time of adopting the constitution, had declared that it was their intention to sanction slavery, such declarations would all have been but idle wind—and why? Because they are no part of that particular instrument, which they have said shall be the supreme law of the land. If they wish to legalize slavery, they must say so in the constitution, instead of saying so out of it. By adopting the constitution, they say just what, and only what, the constitution itself expresses.

THIRD RULE CITED FOR SLAVERY.

A third rule of interpretation, resorted to for the support of slavery, is the maxim that “Usage is the best interpreter of laws.”

If by this rule be meant only that the meaning to be applied to a word in a particular case ought to be the same that has usually been applied to it in other cases of a similar nature, we can, of course, have no objection to the application of the rule to the word “free;” for usage, as has already been shown, will fix upon it a meaning other than as the correlative of slaves.

Or if by this rule be meant that all laws must be interpreted according to those rules of interpretation which usage has established, that is all that the advocates of liberty can desire, in the interpretation of the constitution.

But if the rule requires that after a particular law has once, twice, or any number of times, been adjudicated upon, it must always be construed as it always has been, the rule is ridiculous; it makes the interpretation given to a law by the courts superior to the law itself; because the law had a meaning of its own before any “usage” had obtained under it, or any judicial construction had been given to it.

It is the original meaning of the constitution itself that we are now seeking for; the meaning which the courts were bound to put upon it from the beginning; not the meaning they actually have put upon it. We wish to determine whether the meaning which they have hitherto put upon it be correct. To settle this point, we must go back to the rules applicable to the instrument itself, before any judicial constructions had been given to it. All constructions put upon it by the courts or the government, since the instrument was adopted, come too late to be of any avail in settling the meaning the instrument had at the time it was adopted—certainly unless it be impossible to settle its original meaning by any rules applicable to the instrument itself.

We charge the courts with having misinterpreted the instrument from the beginning; with having violated the rules that were applicable to the instrument before any practice or usage had obtained under it. This charge is not to be answered by saying that the courts have interpreted it as they have, and that that interpretation is now binding, on the ground of usage, whether it were originally right or wrong. The constitution itself is the same now that it was the moment it was adopted. It cannot have been altered by all the false interpretations that may have been put upon it.

If this rule were to be applied in this manner to the constitution, it would deserve to be regarded as a mere device of the courts to maintain their own reputations for infallibility, and uphold the usurpations of the government on which they are dependent, rather than a means of ascertaining the real character of the constitution.[*]

But perhaps it will be said, that by usage is meant the practice of the people. It would be a sufficient answer to this ground to say, that usage, against law and against right, can neither abolish nor change the law, in any case. And usage is worth nothing in the exposition of a law, except where the law is so uncertain that its meaning cannot be settled by the rules applicable to its words. Furthermore, it is only ancient usage that is, in any case, of any considerable importance.

This whole matter of usage is well disposed of in the note.[*]

FOURTH RULE CITED FOR SLAVERY.

A fourth rule of interpretation, relied on for the support of slavery, is that the words of a law must be construed to subserve the intentions of the legislature. So also the words of a contract must be construed to subserve the intentions of the parties. And the constitution must be construed to subserve the intentions of “the people of the United States.”

Those who quote this rule in favor of slavery, assume that it was the intention of “the people of the United States” to sanction slavery; and then labor to construe all its words so as to make them conform to that assumption.

But the rule does not allow of any such assumption. It does not supersede, or at all infringe, the rule that “the intention of the legislature is to be collected from the words they have used to convey it.”[*] This last rule is obviously indispensable to make written laws of any value; and it is one which the very existence of written laws proves to be inflexible; for if the intentions could be assumed independently of the words, the words would be of no use, and the laws of course would not be written.

Nor does this rule, that words are to be construed so as to subserve intentions, supersede, or at all infringe, the rule, that the intentions of the legislature are to be taken to be just what their words express, whether such be really their intentions or not.[†]

The two rules, that “words must be construed to subserve intentions,” and that “intentions must be collected from the words,” may, at first view, appear to conflict with each other. There is, however, no conflict between them. The rule, that words must be construed to subserve intentions, applies only to ambiguous words; to those words which, on account of their ambiguity, need to be construed; [*] and it assumes that the intentions of the law have been made known by other words, that are not ambiguous. The whole meaning of the rule, then, is, that the intentions of ambiguous words must be construed in conformity with the intentions expressed in those words that are explicit. [†]

Where no intentions are explicitly revealed, the court will presume the best intentions of which the words, taken as a whole, are capable; agreeably to the rule cited from the Supreme Court of Massachusetts, viz., “It is always to be presumed that the legislature intend the most beneficial construction of their acts, when the design of them is not apparent.”—4 Mass., 537.

This rule, then, that the ambiguous words of an instrument must be construed to subserve the intentions expressed by other words, that are explicit, requires that the ambiguous words in the constitution (if there are any such) be construed in favor of liberty, instead of slavery.

Thus have been stated and examined all the rules of interpretation, (with the exception of one, to be named hereafter,) that occur to me as being of any moment in this discussion. And I think the soundness and permanent authority of those that make for liberty and justice, if indeed they do not all make for liberty and justice, have been shown.

But of the reason and authority of all these rules, the reader must of necessity judge for himself; for their whole authority rests on their reason, and on usage, and not on any statute or constitution enacting them.[*] And the way for the reader to judge of their soundness, is, for him to judge whether they are the rules by which he wishes his own contracts, and the laws on which he himself relies for protection, to be construed. Whether, in fact, honest contracts, honest laws, and honest constitutions, can be either agreed upon, or sustained, by mankind, if they are to be construed on any other principles than those contained in these rules.

If he shall decide these questions in favor of the rules, he may then properly consider further, that these were the received rules of legal interpretation at the time the constitution was adopted, and had been for centuries. That they had doubtless been the received rules of interpretation from the time that laws and contracts were first formed among men; inasmuch as they are such as alone can secure men’s rights under their honest contracts, and under honest laws, and inasmuch also as they are such as unprofessional and unlearned men naturally act upon, under the dictates of common sense, and common honesty.

If it now be still objected that the people, or any portion of them, did not intend what the constitution, interpreted by the preceding rules, expresses, the answer is this.

We must admit that the constitution, of itself, independently of the actual intentions of the people, expresses some certain, fixed, definite, and legal intentions; else the people themselves would express no intentions by agreeing to it. The instrument would, in fact, contain nothing that the people could agree to. Agreeing to an instrument that had no meaning of its own, would only be agreeing to nothing.

The constitution, then, must be admitted to have a meaning of its own, independently of the actual intentions of the people. And if it be admitted that the constitution has a meaning of its own, the question arises, What is that meaning? And the only answer that can be given is, that it can be no other than the meaning which its words, interpreted by sound legal rules of interpretation, express. That, and that alone, is the meaning of the constitution. And whether the people who adopted the constitution really meant the same things which the constitution means, is a matter which they were bound to settle, each individual with himself, before he agreed to the instrument; and it is therefore one with which we have now nothing to do. We can only take it for granted that the people intended what the constitution expresses, because, by adopting the instrument as their own, they declared that their intentions corresponded with those of the instrument. The abstract intentions, or meaning, of the instrument itself, then, is all that we have now any occasion to ascertain. And this we have endeavored to do, by the application of the foregoing rules of interpretation.

It is perfectly idle, fraudulent, and futile, to say that the people did not agree to the instrument in the sense which these rules fix upon it; for if they have not agreed to it in that sense, they have not agreed to it at all. The instrument itself, as a legal instrument, has no other sense, in which the people could agree to it. And if the people have not adopted it in that sense, they have not yet adopted the constitution; and it is not now, and never has been, the law of the land.

There would be just as much reason in saying that a man who signs a note for the payment of five hundred dollars, does not sign it in the legal sense of the note, but only in the sense that he will not pay, instead of the sense that he will pay, so much money, as there is in saying that the people did not agree to the constitution in its legal sense, but only in some other sense, which slaveholders, pirates, and thieves might afterwards choose to put upon it.

Besides, does any one deny that all the rest of the constitution, except what is claimed for slavery, was agreed to in the sense which these rules put upon it? No decent man will make such a denial. Well, then, did not the people intend that all parts of the same instrument should be construed by the same rules? Or do the advocates of slavery seriously claim that three or four millions of people, thinly scattered over thirteen states, and having no opportunity for concert, except by simply saying yea, or nay, to the instrument presented to them, did, nevertheless, at the time of agreeing to the instrument, agree, also, by means of some mysterious, invisible, miraculous intercourse, that the slave clauses, as they are called, should be construed by directly opposite rules from all the rest of the instrument? Even if they did so agree, such agreement would be no part of the constitution; but if they did not, they certainly did not agree to sanction slavery. No matter what any, or all, of them said before, or after, or otherwise than by, the adoption of the instrument. What they all said by the single act of adoption, is all that had any effect in establishing the constitutional law of the country.

Certainly, the whole instrument must be construed by uniform rules of interpretation. If, then, the slave clauses, as they are called, are construed so as to sanction slavery, all the rest of the instrument must be construed to sanction all possible iniquity and injustice of which its words can be made to insinuate a sanction. More than this. “The laws passed in pursuance of the constitution,” must of course be construed by the same rules as the constitution itself. If, then, the constitution is to be construed as adversely as possible to liberty and justice, all “the laws passed in pursuance of it” must be construed in the same manner. Such are the necessary results of the arguments for slavery.

Nothing can well be more absurd than the attempt to set up the real or pretended intentions of a few individuals, in opposition to the legal meaning of the instrument the whole people have adopted, and the presumed intentions of every individual who was a party to it. Probably no two men, framers, adopters, or any others, ever had the same intentions as to the whole instrument; and probably no two ever will. If, then, one man’s actual intentions are of any avail against the legal meaning of the instrument, and against his presumed intentions, any and every other man’s actual intentions are of equal importance; and consequently, in order to sustain this theory of carrying into effect men’s actual intentions, we must make as many different constitutions out of this one instrument, as there were, are, or may be, different individuals who were, are, or may be, parties to it.

But this is not all. It is probable that, as matter of fact, four fifths, and, not unlikely, nine tenths, of all those who were legally parties to the constitution, never even read the instrument, or had any definite idea or intention at all in regard to the relation it was to bear, either to slavery, or to any other subject. Every inhabitant of the country, man, woman, and child, was legally a party to the constitution, else they would not have been bound by it. Yet how few of them read it, or formed any definite idea of its character, or had any definite intentions about it. Nevertheless, they are all presumed to have read it, understood it, agreed to it, and to have intended just what the instrument legally means, as well in regard to slavery as in regard to all other matters. And this presumed intention of each individual, who had no actual intention at all, is of as much weight in law, as the actual intention of any of those individuals, whose real or pretended intentions have been so much trumpeted to the world. Indeed the former is of altogether more importance than the latter, if the latter were contrary to the legal meaning of the instrument itself.

The whole matter of the adoption of the constitution is mainly a matter of assumption and theory, rather than of actual fact. Those who voted against it, are just as much presumed to have agreed to it, as those who voted for it. And those who were not allowed to vote at all, are presumed to have agreed to it equally with the others. So that the whole matter of the assent and intention of the people, is, in reality, a thing of assumption, rather than of reality. Nevertheless, this assumption must be taken for fact, as long as the constitution is acknowledged to be law; because the constitution asserts it as a fact, that the people ordained and established it; and if that assertion be denied, the constitution itself is denied, and its authority consequently invalidated, and the government itself abolished.

Probably not one half, even, of the male adults ever so much as read the constitution, before it was adopted. Yet they are all presumed to have read it, to have understood the legal rules of interpreting it, to have understood the true meaning of the instrument, legally interpreted, and to have agreed to it in that sense, and that only. And this presumed intention of persons who never actually read the instrument, is just as good as the actual intention of those who studied it the most profoundly; and better, if the latter were erroneous.

The sailor, who started on a voyage before the constitution was framed, and did not return until after it was adopted, and knew nothing of the matter until it was all over, is, in law, as much a party to the constitution as any other person. He is presumed to have read it, to have understood its legal meaning, and to have agreed to that meaning, and that alone; and his presumed intention is of as much importance as the actual intention of George Washington, who presided over the convention that framed it, and took the first presidential oath to support it. It is of altogether more consequence than the intention of Washington, if Washington intended anything different from what the instrument, legally interpreted, expresses; for, in that case, his intention would be of no legal consequence at all.

Men’s presumed intentions were all uniform, all certainly right, and all valid, because they corresponded precisely with what they said by the instrument itself; whereas their actual intentions were almost infinitely various, conflicting with each other, conflicting with what they said by the instrument, and therefore of no legal consequence or validity whatever.

It is not the intentions men actually had, but the intentions they constitutionally expressed, that make up the constitution. And the instrument must stand, as expressing the intentions of the people, (whether it express them truly or not,) until the people either alter its language, or abolish the instrument. If “the people of the United States” do not like the constitution, they must alter, or abolish, instead of asking their courts to pervert it, else the constitution itself is no law.

Finally. If we are bound to interpret the constitution by any rules whatever, it is manifest that we are bound to do it by such rules as have now been laid down. If we are not bound to interpret it by any rules whatever, we are wholly without excuse for interpreting it in a manner to legalize slavery. Nothing can justify such an interpretation but rules of too imperative a character to be evaded.[*]